


The Shepherd's Song

by tetsunohana



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, M/M, MAMA Era Powers (EXO)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetsunohana/pseuds/tetsunohana
Summary: Lay is the god of healing and the patron god of shepherds, and although he tries his best to be impartial, one shepherd in particular is his favorite. Their story is one that will change the world order and the very fabric of spacetime.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: this is pretty plot-heavy/worldbuilding-heavy. I get a little creative with religion.

The mountain of the gods is dark with night, shadows dancing over the temples and pagodas, and a thousand stars twinkling afoot. Yixing picks over them carefully so as not to disturb their precise arrangement, wading slowly through streams and pools of starlight every so often as he follows the steep path downwards.

“Going to visit your shepherd again, Lay?”

Yixing stops in his tracks and turns to address the source of the teasing voice. It’s Jongdae, although the mortal world knows him better as Chen, the trickster god. He is well loved by mankind, for he is the one that stole lightning from the spirits and gave humans fireworks. The other god is perched on a branch of moonlight, his head cocked to the side as he regards Yixing.

“Speak for yourself,” Yixing replies. “You visit that mortal of yours every week.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes. “ _ That mortal _ happens to be one of my priests, you nitwit. I visit him to give him visions and such to spread to the laypeople.”

Yixing shrugs. “Well, I  _ am _ the patron god of sheep. Shepherds are basically my priests.”

“Oh, and I’m sure the fact that this one is young and pretty has nothing to do with it,” Jongdae teases. “I’m  _ sure _ you visit all the crusty old ones too.”

Yixing sighs. “You act like every other god on this mountain doesn’t do the same thing. I would wager twenty unicorns that Joonmyun is visiting that fisherwoman now.”

Jongdae snorts. “You’ll have to find someone dumber than me to take you up on  _ that _ wager. Well, I won’t bother you any longer. Have fun with your shepherd.”

The trickster god swings over the branch of moonlight like a monkey and runs back up the mountainside, presumably to the watery cavern he calls his own. Yixing shakes his head, but he can’t seem to shake the feeling that the other god is up to no good.

…

The shepherd’s name is Baekhyun. When her son was born, Baekhyun’s mother had prayed every night to Lay, the god of healing and the protector of sheep, to watch over and protect her son. It had been a difficult pregnancy, and she feared the gods had marked him for tragedy. Yixing, seeing that the child was healthy and strong, saw no need to intervene in the mortal world. But the mother’s devotion moved him, and he watched over the farming family for years, as Baekhyun grew from a mischievous toddler to a handsome young man with a penchant for singing too loudly and disappearing for too many hours into the mountains beyond the family farm.

Baekhyun is a second son, and so when he came of age his father bought him twenty heads of sheep so that he could start a flock of his own, while his older brother took over the family farm. Baekhyun took to the task with more ambition than anyone in the family would have guessed, saving the profits from the sheep’s milk and wool to grow the flock to almost a hundred head by the time five years had passed. He even got a dog named Mongryong that he trained from a puppy to herd sheep. Yixing saw no need to intervene in Baekhyun’s fate, as he seemed to be doing a pretty fine job by himself.

Yixing does visit occasionally still, though. He has grown fond of the shepherd over the years, fond of his wide smile and sweet voice and sparkling, mischievous eyes. He watches the shepherd lie on the mountain’s grassy slopes, letting the sun warm his face as he keeps an eye on his growing flock, Mongryong dozing beside him. He looks so peaceful and contented as the wind ruffles the grass and dances over his skin that Yixing wants to stay there forever, soaking in the most perfect of paintings.

Today he appears in the form of a sheep, small and unassuming. He watches Baekhyun as he grazes amongst the other sheep. The shepherd is carrying on an entire conversation with Mongryong, looking straight into the dog’s eyes as it cocks its head to the side as if to ask its master what on earth he is doing.

“I really want one though, Mongryong-ah,” the shepherd is whining. “It’s just so expensive. Perhaps if I saved for a few years, and sold a few of my sheep. But even then, I shouldn’t spend so much money on something so useless when my mother doesn’t even have a nice prayer mat for the summer festival.”

The dog barks loudly, as if agreeing with its master. Baekhyun just laughs, kissing the dog on the head and giving it a thorough tummy rub as it rolls around on the grass, utterly satisfied. Yixing has never before envied a dog, bound to the will of its master, but he does at that moment. He chews on his grass, disgruntled. As he chews, he thinks. Baekhyun, like his mother, has long been one of Lay’s devoted worshippers, praying to him every night for plentiful pastures and healthy sheep. Gods are known to reward the faithful generously. And if Baekhyun wants a lute, Yixing might be able to arrange it.

…

The god of music is pampered and presumptuous, like his worshippers. Only the richest members of society can afford music, or more precisely, musical instruments. The commoners must make do with singing, whether they be blessed or not with voices that are pleasant to listen to. Their songs are simple chants and work songs, plain in melody and in execution. Only the rich may listen to the skilled performances of trained musicians who compose songs praising the excellence of their patrons.

“Preposterous,” the god exclaims when Yixing finishes outlining his proposal. “What could a shepherd possibly do with a lute?”

“He’s very musical,” Yixing explains. “I imagine he saw a performance in the village.”

The god only scoffs. “How could he afford going to a performance? Besides, I doubt he is as talented as you believe. Music is more than shouting into the wind, you know.”

Yixing sighs. He knows it’s a lost cause. He heads back to his own home on the mountain of the gods. His home is a modest hut, not far from a bubbling stream stemming from the waterfall of prayers meant for him. He lies down on the bed of sheep’s wool and watches the unicorns grazing on the grass of dreams outside, thinking.

…

He’s distracted from his mission by a war tribunal that takes weeks to resolve; humans are always destroying each other’s civilizations, tearing down each other’s gods and arguing over which gods should replace the fallen ones. The gods do their part to restore the balance between the spirit world, the mortal world, and the half-realm in which they themselves reside, and for the most part, it works.

By the time he makes it back to Baekhyun’s herd, appearing as an ewe milling about in the center of all the sheep, the summer festival is over. The war hasn’t touched this remote village in the hills; the commoners barely remember a war had even taken place. Baekhyun is wondering out loud, pondering whether he should risk the passage into higher, richer pastures so late into the season. The grasses may have already been exhausted by other shepherds, and the trek downwards is much more treacherous than the one upwards.

As Baekhyun goes over the names of the peaks out loud, Yixing suddenly remembers an abandoned shrine of his at the top of one of the lower peaks. Its priests had fled in the war of a century ago, after the conquering armies laid waste to the pastureland and farmland that supported the shrine. A half-baked sort of plan starts to form in his head.

He slowly struggles out of the center of the herd and searches for a good tree behind which to shed this body and return to the mountain of the gods. He’s a good distance away from the herd when he hears a barking and Mongryong is nipping at his legs, herding him back to the rest of the sheep. Baekhyun comes over and praises the dog, giving it a thorough rub on the top of the head. He frowns at Yixing, as if trying to remember which sheep he is. Yixing reluctantly goes back amongst the rest of the sheep. He’ll have to wait until nightfall to return.

…

Yixing is wearing his favorite human body. He had fallen in love with its owner long ago, had been infatuated with the smooth clear skin and the hair as dark as a raven, the eyes that crinkled with laughter and the deep dimple on the right cheek. He had watched the human from afar for years before appearing to him as a human himself. The stolen nights between them had been some of the most precious ones Yixing can remember. The human eventually died tragically, victim of a petty spat between goddesses, but Yixing kept the body for his own, immortalizing its previous inhabitant in some small, superficial way.

He dresses in a priest’s robes, a walking stick in hand and a small bag slung over his shoulder. The unicorn’s head carving tied to his waist identifies him as a follower of Lay, the god of healing. This body is agile and strong; he leaps nimbly over the stones beside the dirt path leading to the mountain’s peak. Halfway up, he strays from the path, heading to the wide pasture where he knows Baekhyun will be today.

The shepherd is leaning against a tree, singing an unfamiliar melody, when Yixing arrives. Yixing wonders where he heard it, or if perhaps it is of his own creation. The sheep have spread wide over the pasture, but Baekhyun doesn’t seem to mind. The wolves are scarce in these hills, and Mongryong is vigilant, nose in the air as he skirts around the sheep. Yixing wades through the grass, feeling it tickle his bare skin, and laughs when Mongryong approaches him with a growl.

“Hello there,” he calls, and Baekhyun hears him as well, looking away from the mountain scenery.

He reaches down to pat Mongryong on the head, and the dog immediately stills before yipping happily, wagging his tail as he jumps up and down around Yixing’s feet, begging to be petted. Animals are much better than humans at detecting the divine in everyday life. He supposes sentience gets in the way of spirituality. Baekhyun is approaching through the grass, probably wondering what all the commotion is about. Yixing notices that his hair has gotten long, covering the back of his neck and falling into his eyes as he shades them against the sun.

“Hello,” Yixing greets with a small bow. “I am Yixing, priest of the god Lay. I am making a pilgrimage to Unicorn Peak, to the shrine there.”

“I am Baekhyun,” Baekhyun replies, “shepherd. And a priest of Lay is always welcome here.”

Yixing smiles. “May I?” he asks, gesturing to the tree where Baekhyun has lain his staff and a bag containing what other few belongings he has. “I’d like to rest before continuing the trek.”

“Of course.” Baekhyun leads the way back to the tree, Mongryong circling his feet.

“How has your flock fared this year?” Yixing asks when they’re both seated. He pulls a jug of wine from his bag and offers it to Baekhyun, but his offering is waved away.

Baekhyun takes out a canteen full of what smells like fermented sheep’s milk, along with a couple of buns, slightly hard, and a piece of dried meat. “Lay has blessed my flock this year. Please, any priest of his is my honored guest.”

Yixing is pleased. He knows he didn’t misjudge Baekhyun, with his gentle piety and effortless smile, beautiful as though blessed by the gods. Though Yixing knows of no other god that would take such an interest in a lowly shepherd.

“How long have you been here?” he asks as he puts the canteen to his lips. “When will you move on to other pastures?”

Baekhyun shrugs, mouth full of bread. “The sheep will be fine here for another day or so. Then I will venture to higher pastures for the next few weeks. There is one that I visit every year.”

“When was the last time you went to the village?”

“I was at the temple for the summer festival.” Baekhyun’s eyes twinkle and he pulls a small wooden figurine from his pocket, carefully carved into the shape of a unicorn. “Don’t worry. I still pray when I’m up here.”

Yixing laughs. “I don’t expect you to pray if you don’t want to. For Lay, the shepherd prays by watching the stars, by remembering the mountain peaks, by keeping his flock together, by sleeping under the moonlight, by drinking the snowmelt and the sheep’s milk.”

“How poetic,” Baekhyun says, and Yixing shrugs in response.

He lays back down against the grass, closing his eyes and feeling the sun against his cheeks. “Your livelihood  _ is _ a prayer, Baekhyun.”

…

Yixing leaves Baekhyun lying in the grass, Mongryong sprawled across his belly, and climbs the rest of the mountain easily.

The shrine has fallen into disrepair, and Yixing cleans away some of the debris, sweeping away the rocks and twigs and pulling out some weeds that have grown up around the modest pavilion. He’s sitting on the ground and admiring the view when he feels a god materializing next to him, the divine presence blinding his human eyes.

He squints against the powerful aura and quickly sheds his human skin, laughing when he sees who it is.

“A bit vain, isn’t it?” Jongin asks. “To be cleaning your own shrine.”

Kai, the messenger god, god of shadows, is wearing a smirk. He’s cloaked in black as always, the shadows rippling over his skin.

“Don’t worry, it’s all part of a larger plan,” Yixing says. “Take me back to the mountain?”

Ordinarily, he would have to travel to a portal, one of the places where the mortal world and the gods’ world almost touch one another, but Kai’s power allows him to step between the realms at will. Yixing extends a hand and feels the shadows encircling him, pulling him close.

“What kind of plan is it?”

“There’s a shepherd who wants a lute,” Yixing explains.

Jongin laughs, and the shadows swirl around them both. “So that’s the shepherd Jongdae told me about. You’ll want to be careful. Wouldn’t want the same thing to happen to him as happened to that other human you took a liking to.”

Yixing wrinkles his nose. “That’s why I haven’t told Soojung. One word to her and all the goddesses on her side of the mountain will know.”

“Wise,” Jongin says. The shadows engulf them and Yixing feels himself being pulled back to the realm of the gods, where the material and spiritual worlds intersect.

…

Kai knows all of the gods on the mountain, for he carries their messages and learns their secrets. His home is ever-changing, sometimes on this corner of the mountain, other times on that corner, because his power comes from the shadows, the whispers, the intersections. Among mortals, he appears most often at the turning points in life -- the ports, the healing huts, the battlefields, and Limbo.

He brings them back to the base of the mountain, where the lesser gods live.

Yixing raises an eyebrow. “Feel like walking?”

“I want you to see something,” Jongin replies as they weave through the dense foliage that’s common on this side of the mountain.

The forest is peaceful today, with only a few spirits chirping in the trees and a pleasant breeze ruffling the leaves.

“What are we going to see?” Yixing asks after a few moments of silence.

“What do you hear?” They pause, and Jongin looks at him expectantly.

Yixing closes his eyes, but all he can hear are the whispers of prayers floating through the air, and the distant susurrus of the spirit realm, like a harmony that could only be heard over the melody when you were concentrating on the thread of the music.

“Nothing,” Yixing says finally, frustrated.

“Exactly,” Jongin says, lowering his voice as they continue upwards. “Where is everyone? This is usually one of the busiest footpaths on the mountain. You can’t walk down this path without running into some overzealous hunter or trapper, but now even their prey have gone. Somebody is up to no good, and I don’t know who it is. Someone managed to hide this from me.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Yixing says. Smiling, he continues, “After all, the gods work in strange and mysterious ways.”

Jongin ignores the bait. “I’ve heard rumors of another war being concocted between the southern merchant nations. You know how easily the mortal world can shape ours.”

“The humans always find a victor,” Yixing replies easily. He has other things on his mind at the moment, like the next time he’ll see Baekhyun.

...

“You’re back,” Baekhyun smiles when Yixing sits down next to him on the grassy hill. The high points of his cheeks are ever so slightly pink, but whether flushed from exertion or kissed by the sun Yixing can’t tell.

“The priests have decided that the shrine on Unicorn Peak should be tended once more,” Yixing replies. “I’ve come to make preparations for a cabin nearby.”

“Please let me know if you require any assistance,” Baekhyun offers. “I would be happy to help with the construction, or to bring you supplies.”

“Do you often work with wood?” Yixing asks. “The forests are not very dense on this side of the mountain.”

Baekhyun smiles. “As entertaining as the sheep are, sometimes I get bored. Whenever we pass by a forest, I collect some wood for whittling. But I’ve never built a building. Perhaps my brother would be of more help with that.”

Yixing shakes his head. “Let’s learn together.”

“Sure,” Baekhyun answers easily. “How about giving the cabin a porch? Facing the sunrise, of course.”

Yixing smiles. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

He lies back against the grass, and Baekhyun lies down next to him, their shoulders brushing. The mountain air is sweet and the sun on their faces is warm. Yixing could fall asleep here, but then he might accidently shed his mortal body. He contents himself with closing his eyes and humming a half-remembered tune.   
  


“Do they have any instruments at the temple?” Baekhyun asks after Yixing falls silent for a moment.

Yixing shakes his head, sitting up and propping himself up on his forearms. “They are too expensive for simple priests like us. We can make do with our voices and our hands.”

“Not your lips?” Baekhyun returns playfully, and Yixing is confused until Baekhyun starts whistling. It’s an unfamiliar tune.

“Did you hear that in the town?” he asks.

“I heard a bird singing it the other week,” Baekhyun says. “I changed it a bit, of course.”

Yixing laughs and lies back on the grass. “It’s pretty.”  _ Like the curve of your lips, _ he wants to add, but doesn’t.

…

Yixing hadn’t considered that there might be a god of woodworking, but his conversation with Joonmyun the other day alerted him otherwise. Jongin kindly pointed him to the correct hut on the mountain of the gods. It’s deep in the woods, surrounded by outhouses that look to be full of tools and unused furniture.

“Hello?” Yixing calls as he knocks on the door. To his surprise, his knock causes the wood to ripple like the surface of a still pond when a stone is dropped into it. Soon the whole hut is vibrating.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” comes the shout from inside the hut.

Once he has emerged from the hut and stopped the vibrations, the god of woodworking is friendly. He offers Yixing a drink of water from a wooden cup, which Yixing accepts politely. The water is clear and cold, like the first breath of winter.

“What brings you here?” the god of woodworking asks. “Not often that one of the gods from the other side of the mountain comes around here, although I suppose there has been a bit more activity these days, something about a coalition or something or the other.”

Yixing takes a careful sip from his cup. “I only have a simple question. You see, as the patron god of sheep, I have a special affinity with the shepherd that takes care of them. And while the sheep are grazing, the shepherd doesn’t have much to do. Except perhaps, whittle some wood and make something useful.”

The other god smiles. “Keep going.”

“What do you say to a strategic alliance?” Yixing asks. “I will pass on the art of whittling wood to the shepherds, make it part of their livelihood. That will improve the lives of my worshippers, while also giving you new worshippers.”

The god of woodworking laughs heartily and nods at the small waterfall, too small to feed into a creek, next to his hut. “Anything that earns more worshippers for me sounds like a plan to me.”

The two gods bow to each other to acknowledge their bargain, each feeling as if he has gotten the better end of the deal.

…

Progress on the cabin proceeds quickly with both Baekhyun and Yixing contributing. Yixing uses his godly powers to strategically place a few choice trees near the construction site, and to lighten the weight of the logs that Baekhyun carries back over his shoulder.

One day, when the cabin has almost been completed, they sit on the porch and watch the twilight emerging from the east, Baekhyun fiddling with a carving, Yixing doing the same.

“What are you working on?” Baekhyun asks, peering over curiously at what Yixing has in his hands.

Yixing presents the half-finished flute, and Baekhyun turns it over in his hands a few times. They got some bamboo from the grove on the far side of the mountain a few days ago, but he’s only just gotten the chance to work on the flute, after studying some of the examples that he bartered from the god of music.

“What is it?” he asks as he hands it back.

“Hopefully it will be an instrument,” Yixing replies as he continues his work. “I’ll give it to you as a gift when it’s finished. You’ll make far better use of it than I can.”

But Baekhyun has become fascinated and asks Yixing question after question about the flute until the sun has completely set and Baekhyun falls asleep in the grass, a lawn of glittering stars twinkling above them. His body is so warm next to Yixing’s, a little pool of comfort in the endless loneliness of eternity.

...

“Where are you going?”

It’s Jongdae’s turn to be startled as Yixing encounters him on the rarely used footpath. He is going to visit the god of woodworking again to report his progress, and he didn’t expect to see anyone on this path, especially at such a time of night. The god of woodworking keeps strange hours, absorbed in his work, and Yixing has been staying later and later in the mortal world.

Jongdae smiles, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “Nowhere in particular. Just thought I’d explore this part of the mountain a little more. It’s funny, isn’t it? How we can live here our whole lives and not know about some of our closest neighbors?”

Yixing shrugs and continues on to the woodworker’s home, waving behind him. His thoughts have already turned to the memories of the day, watching Baekhyun work on his carvings, the sound of bark being peeled off of a young branch, the sweet smell of sawdust. “Have fun!”

…

The morning that Yixing finishes the flute is followed by the afternoon that the cabin is completed with an ascetic set of furniture. They celebrate with Baekhyun’s family. His mother and father prepare a feast for them, and his brother brings his wife and infant daughter.

“It is truly an honor to have a priest of Lay so close to our home,” Baekhyun’s mother says as she clasps Yixing’s hand in two of her own. He can’t help the dimpled smile that appears on his face. He finds it unsurprising that such a warm soul could raise a son that shines as brightly as Baekhyun does.

“Please, let me know how I may pray to our god for you,” Yixing replies.

The old woman shakes her head. “I already have everything that I could ever wish for.”

Baekhyun’s family leaves for the journey back to the farmhouse before sunset, so they don’t have to travel the rough mountain roads in the dark. Yixing and Baekhyun have decided to spend the night together, and Yixing presents the shepherd with the completed flute.

Baekhyun has spent so much time pestering Yixing about the instrument that he needs no explanation of how it works. He simply brings it to his lips and begins playing. They struggle through discovering the notes together, and Yixing makes a few small adjustments with his chisel and file to perfect the instrument’s tone. By the time the stars are out, they have a modest little melody going, and Baekhyun’s fingers move easily over the keyholes.

“You must promise to come back some times and teach me,” Yixing insists as they lie back against the grass outside, ignoring the chairs inside the cabin. Mongryong is snoring softly to one side, his tail thumping rhythmically through what must be a very exciting dream.

Baekhyun snuggles into Yixing’s side. “Don’t you worry. I’ll visit every time I’m in the area. You’ll start looking for ways to get rid of me.”

Yixing laughs. “Never.”

They watch the stars peacefully for a few moments until the chill of an evening breeze causes them to get even closer for warmth. As he turns his attention from the stars above to the stars in Baekhyun’s eyes, Yixing is acutely aware of the way Baekhyun’s cheeks have become pink from the chill and the body contact. But he waits; otherwise he’d be just the same as one of those meddling goddesses, sticking their noses in business that isn’t theirs.

“Do you think sheep look at stars?” Baekhyun asks, turning to face Yixing. He blushes more deeply when he realizes that Yixing has been looking at him for quite some time.

Laughing, Yixing replies, “I expect that they do, from time to time.” He reaches over and brushes a strand of hair out of Baekhyun’s face, watches the way his eyes follow the movement.

And his next thought is interrupted by warm lips covering his own. He kisses back, reaching over to cup Baekhyun’s face with his hand. Baekhyun rolls until he’s on top, and sits back, smiling.

“We’ll wake up Mongryong,” he says playfully.

Yixing reaches up and pulls him back down, his fingers buried in Baekhyun’s hair. “Don’t worry, I think he’s dreaming of a nice juicy rib.”

…

“You look too happy,” Jongin accuses as Yixing makes his way back up the mountain.

Yixing jumps back and nearly slips on a stone, slick with starlight. “You really need to stop this whole hiding in the shadows business. How is a god supposed to keep track of where you are?”

Jongin smirks as he follows Yixing on his way home. He’s been neglecting his prayers recently in favor of spending time in the mortal world, and he feels the slightest bit guilty.

“I heard the fairy goddess has gone missing,” Jongin says as they walk, occasionally passing another god or goddess on their own business.

Yixing does find that odd. Jessica is one of the oldest goddesses on the mountain, and she became a fixture in their society long ago. She has many allies too, holding together one of the largest factions on the mountain, the faction that protects many of the most powerful creatures in the mortal world: dragons, griffins, krakens, and the like.

“What do you make of it?” Yixing asks.

Jongin pauses. “I think you should help me track down who’s responsible. The balance of power in our realm is ever so fragile. Her disappearance, if she does not subsequently reappear, could be enough to trigger an all-out war.”

Yixing shudders. A gods’ war is the most terrible thing that could afflict their three realms, for the coupling of the mortal realm and the spirit realm are the gods themselves, and strife among them would wreak havoc in both the mortal world and the spiritual one.

“Let me know what I should do.”

…

Yixing and Jongin quickly hit a dead end in their investigations, but Jessica’s disappearance is enough to make Yixing worried about the safety of the delicate peace in the three realms. He treats every moment in the mortal realm as precious, knowing that he could be called back to the gods’ realm at any moment, for a war that could take centuries to resolve.

So in between guiding pilgrims to the shrine on Unicorn Peak, and maintaining the shrine itself, and working in the modest temple in town, Yixing spends every moment that he can with Baekhyun, who can only visit every so often.

“How is Mongryong?” Yixing asks one afternoon as Baekhyun comes into the cabin without knocking and greets him with a peck on the lips.

“As hard-working as ever!” Baekhyun replies, setting some mountain vegetables on the table and sitting. “But I’m afraid he’s getting lonely. Should I get him a female friend?”

Yixing pours them both wine. “Puppies?”

Baekhyun nods eagerly. “You’ll help me take care of them, won’t you?”

“Well…” Yixing pretends to think deeply on the matter, but Baekhyun sees right through him, leaping up to hug him around the neck and kiss him again.

They break apart too soon for Yixing’s liking, but Baekhyun clearly has something to show him, because he goes outside and returns with something wrapped in cloth.

“I finished it last night!” Baekhyun says. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He unwraps the cloth to reveal a lute.

Yixing gasps as he runs a finger over it. It’s as fine as the ones he’s seen in the town below, and he can’t wait to hear Baekhyun play it. It’s smaller than the ones he’s accustomed to, more suitable for use while traveling. The dark wood is polished and gleaming, the whole instrument so much finer than the bamboo flute that Yixing made. He runs a thumb over an engraving at one end.

“A unicorn,” he smiles.

“For good luck,” Baekhyun responds.

“You don’t need good luck,” Yixing says softly.  _ You are my good luck _ .

Baekhyun gasps. “How blasphemous, Priest.”

Yixing shakes his head in exasperation. “Where did you get the string?” he asks.

Baekhyun shrugs nonchalantly. “I bartered a bit with some merchants in town. Next time I’ll learn to make the strings myself. Perhaps strong reeds would do, or wool that’s been sufficiently spun and treated.”

“I’ll ask around,” Yixing offers. He’s sure that someone on the mountain of the gods will know a way.

Baekhyun smiles gratefully. Then, after a moment, he asks, “Do you want to play something?”

They play until the moon is shining and the candles have gone out.

…

“Where are we going?” Baekhyun asks, his voice full of laughter. Mongryong is running ahead of them, barking at something in the dark.

“You’ll find out,” Yixing promises as they make their way carefully through the grassy hills, watching for stones in their way.

“Obviously,” Baekhyun replies, rolling his eyes, but he keeps walking with no complaint.

After a while, Mongryong returns to them, circling around their feet and trying to herd them forward. They both laugh and pick up the pace; the hills are now smoother and more peaceful.

“Why don’t we put out the torch?” Baekhyun suggests after a few minutes. “The moon is so big tonight.”

Yixing agrees; he’ll be able to sense any danger, anyway. Their eyes quickly adjust to the pale moonlight rather than the bright flickering flame of the torch, and they both pause for a moment to appreciate the stars.

“There you can see Chen’s lightning bolt,” Yixing points out, his finger tracing over the long jagged shape of the stars, with the little closed loop at the end.

“I’ve never understood why he needs an amulet to store it in,” Baekhyun says, pointing at the little irregular diamond at the end. “Lightning is a thing of nature. Why does it need to be trapped?”

Yixing laughs. He remembers the story that Baekhyun is referencing, an old rumor somehow distorted into fact by mortal mouths. “That’s not an amulet. That’s him, of course. Look how small he is compared to the lightning.”

“Oh!” Baekhyun nods. “I like that story better.”

“Let’s go,” Yixing says, reaching for Baekhyun’s hand. “We don’t want to be late.”

“Is there someone waiting for us?”

“You’ll see.”

They reach the peak after a few more minutes of walking, the little stone shrine outlined against the stars.

“Most people don’t know this,” Yixing says, his voice light and mischievous. “But every so often, Chen likes to display his power for the mortal world to see. To most people, it seems like an accident, but if you look deeply enough into the movement of the stars and the turning of the seasons, you will know where and when he plans to give a show.”

Just then, the first firework explodes in the sky above them, far bigger and far brighter than anything the mortals have been able to achieve. The crack reverberates in their chests, and while they’re still reeling from the impact the next firework comes, a dazzling array of colors that rain down like flower petals.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone else about this?” Baekhyun asks. “It’s so beautiful.”

Yixing shrugs. “I wanted the show to be for us alone.”

Baekhyun purses his lips but Yixing can tell that he’s pleased. He watches the explosions with wide eyes, commenting on a few of the most spectacular ones every so often, and Yixing watches him.

“I’m surprised Mongryong is okay with this,” Baekhyun says during a brief interlude, and Yixing shrugs innocently. He is of course helping Mongryong stay calm with a bit of his godly presence.

Soon they fall into silence, simply admiring the sky, and Yixing thinks about how he wants the world for Baekhyun.

After the last painting of fire disappears from the sky, they stay for a long time just watching the sky, the stars somehow even brighter than before. And when they kiss, new fireworks explode against their eyelids, their bodies wrapped in each other’s for warmth.

...

Jongin looks grim this time.

“You couldn’t wait until I’d returned to the mountain?” Yixing asks as he walks more quickly through the street, hoping no one looks too closely at them. They make an odd pair: one dressed as a priest and the other as a rogue.

“The balance of our realms cannot wait,” Jongin replies. “Jessica is dead, and her followers are out for blood.”

Yixing stops in his tracks and pulls Jongin into an empty alleyway. “What did you say?”

Jongin grimaces. “She was found dead on the windward side of the mountain last night. Strangled with a silken rope.”

Yixing swallows nervously. “Who would do such a thing? She doesn’t have any enemies, does she?”

“Someone wanted to start a war. There are many gods that would benefit from strife, from a re-ordering of the mountain.”

Yixing glances at the temple, only a few feet away. The other priests are lighting the candles, just in time for evening prayer.

“I’ll come with you,” he decides, “but can I say good-bye first?”

At Jongin’s nod, Yixing sheds his human skin and takes the form of a bird, flying towards the mountains where he knows Baekhyun is tending his flock. Mongryong barks as he descends from the sky and re-assumes his human form.

“Yixing?” Baekhyun looks as though he was just about to drift off to sleep.

Yixing places a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder to tell him not to stand up, and instead lies down on the grass next to him. He listens to the gentle breeze through the grass and gives Mongryong a rub on the head to calm himself.

“I have to go away,” he says slowly. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“But you’ll be back in time to raise Mongryong’s puppies with me, won’t you?”

Yixing smiles and nods, reluctantly. “I’ll fight my way back to you, whatever it takes.”

Baekhyun cocks his head to the side, a wry smile on his lips. “This feels like the beginning of a love ballad.”

Yixing laughs and pulls Baekhyun close, tucking his head into the shepherd’s neck. “I’ll miss you.”

Baekhyun turns to look at Yixing, his neck straining, and the concerned look on his face pains Yixing. “I don’t understand. What’s happening?”

Yixing shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s not think about it for now.”

He leans in for a kiss, and at least they know this will never change. 

…

The war has already begun on the mountain of the gods by the time Jongin and Yixing arrive. The silvery stream that trickles down into the mortal world is stained black with blood, and a wind of stray prayers, lost spirits, and broken bits of gods howls against them as they make their way up the now treacherous footpath.

“We should go to the throne of the gods,” Jongin shouts over the tumult.

“Do you think the king is involved?” Yixing yells back.

“We’ll find out shortly,” Jongin replies as he slashes a path through the rapidly growing underbrush. Without its godly masters to take care of it, the mountain, this wild place carved out from the intersection of the mortal and spirit worlds, is slowly being reclaimed by the colliding energy of the two realms.

By the time they reach the mountain’s peak, they have gathered some information from the other gods they encountered along the way, either fleeing for shelter or rushing to join the battle.

The murderer had swiftly claimed credit for the deed. The goddess of the hunt, head of another powerful faction, had long resented Jessica’s protection of the most prized of prey, and a recent dispute over a mortal brought the conflict to a head. Of course, it was only the catalyst for a war that was long overdue, one that had been prevented by sheer force of will of the other gods, more concerned about the balance of the three realms than about their pride. Now the forces of civilization and those of wilderness are finally able to settle the score, once and for all.

The king of the gods, though not part of Jessica’s faction, is sympathetic to her cause. Once he gathered his myriad forces to punish the murderer, the war should have been won. But somewhere, somehow, someone miscalculated, and the war still rages on.

They find Joonmyun holding council not far from the summit, surrounded by various gods and goddesses that Yixing is more or less familiar with.

“Where have you been?” he asks as they approach. “We have much to discuss, and you, Yixing, have many to heal.”

…

There’s little notion of right or wrong in a war of the gods, for the gods are the givers of justice and the deciders of history. In a war of the gods, there is only the choice of picking the right side and hoping that overwhelming strength and numbers will defeat the other side swiftly enough.

Yixing doesn’t think too much about winners or losers. He follows the gods he knows, as he always does, focuses on healing, as he always does, and trusts that everything will work out in the end, as it always does.

It’s hard to keep track of how much time passes in the mortal world while the war continues. Their allies are many and strong, and Jessica’s followers are slowly whittled down to a few pockets of resistance scattered about the mountain. Those pockets are the hardest to destroy, and Yixing spends his days healing the same wounds he saw the previous day, wondering what the use of it all is. Jongin brings the wounded to him, in between carrying messages between their scouts and generals.

The most frustrating pocket of resistance is on the mountain’s summit, only a stone’s throw away from their central command. For the throne of the king of the gods is not merely a symbol but a seat of power, the cornerstone of all of the gods’ powers. From that seed sprang all of existence: first the lawless and formless spiritual world, then the ordered mortal one, perpetually at war with one another. Last, the gods’ realm, to tie the two worlds together and prevent them from tearing one another to shreds, or worse, drifting apart forever. If that terrible event were to happen, it would be a fate worse than destruction, for each world depended on the other; stranded without the spiritual world, the mortal one would wither away, becoming gray and lifeless; without the mortal world, the spiritual one would whirl in endless torment, like a tornado that sucked up everything around it, until it became everything. Whoever controls the throne of the gods controls the balance of the three worlds, and so long as their enemy controls the throne, the war goes on.

Yixing counts the days that have passed in the mortal realm, listens for any news of how far the mortal wars have spread, for surely they have now that every god on the mountain has been involved in the conflict, in one way or another. He doesn’t dare to hope that Baekhyun will wait for him.

…

“What do you want?”   
  


Jongdae sighs and steps out from the shadows of the trees. There’s a wildcat next to him; they’ve always been fond of the trickster god. “Won’t you humor me for a little bit, Yixing?”

Yixing turns back into the shade of the medical tent and continues ripping bandages from old robes. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for that at the moment.”

“I’ll help.” Jongdae picks up some of the robes and begins ripping as well. “Busy doing your part to win the war, I see.”

Yixing flinches. “I heal all, regardless of who they are.”

Jongdae  _ tsk _ s. “I’m sure your comrades who bring you the injured are just as noble as you.”

Yixing turns around and walks towards his medicine cabinet, reaching for ingredients to make another poultice. It’s approaching dusk, and there are sure to be more injured arriving soon.

“Sorry, sorry!” Jongdae calls from behind him. “I’ll tell you why I’m really here.”

“I’m listening.”

Jongdae pauses. “I need your advice as a healer. You wouldn’t deny me that, would you?”

“What is it?”

Jongdae reaches down and pets the cat on its head; it purrs and leans into his hand.

“This war has been taking its toll on the mortal world. Some of them are angry at their gods, withholding prayer and worship.”

Yixing nods. He knows this. Every so often one of the weakened gods comes to him for help, but there’s nothing he can do. The gods depend on the mortal world, just as the mortal world depends on them. And Yixing cannot replace their prayers with anything in the gods’ realm.

“There must be another way,” Jongdae continues. “You told me about it before.”

Yixing shivers. “That was a mistake.”

“What’s the harm in knowing?”

“If you plan to actually use the technique, I can’t tell you.” Yixing puts his work down and goes to sit down. “The sacrifice is too great.”

“I don’t plan to actually use it,” Jongdae replies easily. “It’s the knowledge that will help me.”

Yixing sighs. “Only because I owe you. Give me something to write with.”

Jongdae’s smile is unnerving.

…

There’s less commotion in the medical tent than usual; many of the weaker gods have already succumbed to their wounds, or to their lack of prayer. Yixing stares at his tools, knives and saws scattered among the herbs and powders, and wonders how much time has passed in the mortal world. He didn’t realize how much he was relying on the mortal routine of sleeping and waking; for gods, sleeping is a luxury that is quickly suspended during wartime.

“You look like you could use some rest.”

Yixing startles and looks around for the source of the noise; Jongin is standing in the corner of the healing tent, arms crossed over his chest.

He sighs and turns back to his work, picking up some dirty bandages to begin washing. “I shouldn’t.”

“There’s been a ceasefire, temporarily,” Jongin says. “So we can clear the mountain.”

Yixing frowns. The mountain has grown ever more wild as the conflict has raged on, and they’ll need all the help they can get to rein in its destructive tendencies.

“I should help,” Yixing says.

Jongin shakes his head. “You should rest. Even Joonmyun said so. Go home and answer some prayers, or go back to the mortal world to visit the one you miss so much.”

Yixing smiles. “You know I wouldn’t do that. Who knows when I can go back? It’s better to simply stay here, and maybe that way he’ll forget about me.”

Jongin’s back is already turned as he heads out of the tent. “You are truly one of a kind.” His voice is amused, although still plenty exasperated

Yixing quickly finishes his work, harnessing some of the wandering spirits to tend the wounded until he gets back, and starts walking back home.

The waterfall of prayers has grown to a torrent, flooding the banks of the stream and driving the unicorns deeper into the woods. As always, the wars bring him new followers. And though the prayers of the mortals sustain him wherever he is, he can’t answer them unless he’s here.

He wades into the waterfall and closes his eyes, letting the prayers pour over him and soothe his tired god’s body. He wonders if there will be anyone that he recognizes. He supposes he should hope there isn’t.

He collects a few prayers to answer, holding them in his palm until he can walk back to shore. There are prayers from all over the mortal world, places he’s never visited and civilizations that have never heard his name. Sometimes too, when the mortals cry for help, not knowing who to ask, their prayers come to him.

He listens for Baekhyun’s voice, but he can’t hear it. He smiles, because it’s better that Baekhyun has forgotten him. He wades back to shore and sets the prayers out to dry, so that he can answer them one by one.

_ My Lord, please protect him wherever he is. I don’t ask for him back, only that he can live on without me. _

_ Lay, give me the strength to live on now that I’m alone. _

_ Is there anyone listening? _

...

When the king of gods dies, Yixing is wearily counting his medicines, writing up a list of ones they’re running low on so one of the lesser gods can go look for them. Some of the rarer plants are near impossible to find these days, with most of the mountain destroyed by fighting or reclaimed by the wild.

They all feel it, a low bass thrum that ripples out from the summit. Yixing has never witnessed the death of a king before; only the oldest of gods have. He rushes out of the medicine tent to see if the others have felt the same thing.

The encampment is full of confused faces, all looking around for some sort of explanation. Without knowing whether to give in or rejoice, they mill around and spread rumors. Yixing pushes his way through the crowd, looking for someone he can trust.

He’s not very successful, and the panic is rising in him when he sees the streak of lightning cut across the sky, blinding all of them though it is day, and though they are gods.

With the rumble of thunder comes a voice, “The king is dead. Long live the king.”

…

As the gods return to their own places on the mountain, the story of the end of the war is spread. Jongin was at the siege when the throne of the gods changed owners, and he’s the one that tells Yixing everything.

It was the trickster god Chen, master of lightning, that broke the siege. The king of the gods let him through the front lines during a ceasefire, not knowing his true intentions. Gods do not parlay, and whatever possessed the king to let a stranger into his camp, nobody knows.

But once Chen was past the guards, a bolt of lightning, channeling all of the rage and torment of the spirit world, split the sky, and struck dead the king, who never suspected that the trickster god’s fireworks could create such destruction. The camp erupted in chaos, but by then Chen had already claimed the throne for himself. His scattered allies throughout the mountain began organizing, forcing the old king’s remaining forces to surrender, and calling for a peace council. It was immediately clear that he had long been planning his maneuver.

“There are so many questions now,” Jongin sighs as he finishes telling the story. “How do we even begin to answer them?”

Yixing doesn’t care. He decides that those questions are for the others to answer, because there’s only one question that he’s worried about.

...

When Yixing returns to the mortal world, he sees how the war has ravaged the peaceful countryside that is Baekhyun’s home. Vast stretches of farmland lie fallow or burned. What farmland is still being cultivated is done so by women and children, some of them pulling the plows themselves. Anything of use has long ago been rallied for the war effort: men and boys, oxen and draft horses, scythes and pitchforks. The temple of Lay is full of the injured, and the rest of the temples in the town are full of orphans and widows.

He stops to heal a few of the particularly pathetic soldiers, already treated as lost causes by the priests and priestesses. They lie in dark corners, coughing up blood and lying in their own vomit, so no one notices when a cloaked figure passes a hand over them, smoothing the pain off their faces and allowing their bodies to heal. They will be able to return to their families, or whatever is left of them, within a week.

He wonders if he does it out of remorse, or whether he’s simply stalling for time, delaying the inevitable. He has to see it with his own eyes though, or it will haunt his dreams for generations. Prayers will go unanswered, and his powers will slowly wane. No, he must find Baekhyun now, and let himself accept that he’s been forgotten.

The journey to the farm is long, and Yixing doesn’t make haste. He uses his human form, walking through the grass and enjoying the feeling of dirt in between his toes. The wind isn’t as warm as he remembers, but its clean scent still reminds him of brighter days, watching the sheep graze while Baekhyun plucks on the strings of his lute.

The lands around him slowly turn from barren empty fields to cultivated fields of wheat and orchards of trees that would soon be laden with pears and persimmons. The war hasn’t reached so far, after all.

But when he reaches the farm, the farmhouse is shuttered up and abandoned, the grain stores empty. He goes to the cabin in the mountainside, all of Baekhyun’s favorite pastures, but he can’t find any sign of him.

He sighs, because his time in the mortal world is running out. He’ll have to resume the search after the peace council is over. At least he knows that Baekhyun is still in the mortal world; Jongin would’ve told him otherwise. And besides, he has a strange feeling that he would know, if Baekhyun were gone.

…

Yixing shades his face with his hand so the others don’t see that he’s about to nod off. The deliberations have been going on for weeks, so long that the magical flowers placed on the table to bring auspicious energy have already wilted. There’s a lot to wade through, with so many gods dead or defeated, and even more vying for a place of power in the new world order. Their powers and responsibilities need to be reallocated, and the balance of power on the mountain needs to be adjusted. Only then will the mortal world truly heal.

“The god of music is dead.” Joonmyun clears his throat. “Unfortunate incident. He had meant to surrender, but his opponent was a bit overzealous. His powers had waned quite a bit by the end as well. Not a lot of music-making among the mortals during the war.”

“But music is already being revived in the mortal world,” Jongin says. “Who should take over its protection now?”

“I think that role would best be suited for Yixing.” It’s Jongdae’s voice, playful and slightly smug.

Yixing jerks his head up, surprised. “Why me? I’ve made no contributions in particular to the war.”

He doesn’t even really understand why he’s been offered a place at the negotiating table at all. Perhaps the ones whose lives he saved feel some sort of obligation towards him.

Jongdae only smirks when Yixing looks at him, but Joonmyun speaks up. “But it would be most natural for you to take protection of music. After all, your shepherds are perhaps the most stable group of musicians left today. While wandering musicians starved during the war, the ones kept by the rich were kicked out or murdered by raiders, and their instruments stripped for precious metals and broken. Only the shepherds have remained, with their bamboo flutes and their wooden lutes, strung with sheepsgut.”

“What?” Yixing asks. “What happened to the shepherds?”

“It appears that the arts of woodworking and music have much spread among the shepherds, ever since a few years before the war.” That’s Jongin. “It was a natural step, after so much music disappeared in the turmoil leading up to the war.”

“Will you do it, Yixing?” Joonmyun asks.

Yixing watches the flowers on the table come back to life, one of the buds that never opened blossoming into white-petaled glory.

“I’ll do it,” he says. “But I must request a small leave of absence to attend to my own business. Please, continue the deliberations without me.”

“It is decided,” Jongdae calls after him, and Yixing can already feel the new power surging through him, the new worshippers tickling at the edge of his consciousness.

…

Yixing hears the gentle melody before he crests the hill. The notes, each one round and perfect and resonating with the chord in the pit of his belly, float over like soap bubbles. It’s still chilly; spring hasn’t fully arrived. But here and there, Yixing spots a lone queen bee emerging from her hibernation, or a tiny flowerbud quivering in the breeze.

It’s a melody full of mourning, the raw kind that comes on the edges of sleep, when the mortal veil is lifted for only a moment to reveal the spiritual world, so interwoven into the fabric of existence that it cannot be sensed until moments like these.

“Baekhyun!” he calls, and the melody breaks off as startled eyes meet his. He watches the recognition slowly forming in them, then the clear film of tears, sparkling like morning dew on the tender new grass of spring.

Baekhyun drops his lute and starts running towards him. One of the sheep behind him raises a curious head to the sky, and then resumes grazing.

He opens his arms to let Baekhyun in, and Baekhyun’s sobs are muffled against his chest. “Where did you go?”

Yixing can feel tears pooling in his eyes as well. “The war changed a lot of things.”

“You said you’d be back in time for the puppies,” Baekhyun says weakly. “Where did you go?”

Yixing sighs. “It’s hard to talk about.”

Baekhyun leans back to look Yixing in the eye, and Yixing isn’t sure what he sees there, but his expression changes. “I won’t ask you then. Just don’t leave again.”

“I won’t,” Yixing promises.

Around them, a hundred wildflowers finally open their petals. It’s a risk to blossom so early in the season, before all of the bees have woken, when the chill of winter could still destroy them, but they do so anyway, defiantly.

…

A lot has changed in the six years that Yixing has been missing from the mortal world. Baekhyun’s family went to go live in town, where it was safer. Baekhyun went further into the mountains, where there was only wilderness, and weathered the war by surviving off of his herd, with wild roots and berries to take him through the harder winters. The nobles are busy with sewing new banners and drawing new borders, but the peasants are just trying to start sowing their seeds again. Baekhyun is finally able to return to town to sell his wool and milk again, and life gradually returns to the way it was before the war.

But when Yixing goes to the temple to heal, he knows that it’s not the same. Even though he’s moved back into the cabin, and Baekhyun still visits while he roams his usual pastures with his herd, it’s not the same.

“I came here a lot when you were gone,” Baekhyun says one day as they climb to Unicorn Peak, to the shrine that still stands there, looking only a bit more weathered, its foundations a bit more crumbled. “I tried to maintain it as best as I could.”

“Thank you,” Yixing says, and Baekhyun laughs.

“Why are you thanking me?”

Yixing shrugs. They’ve brought lunch, and they sit on the grassy slope, eating their rice dumplings, watching the clouds drift by overhead. It’s hot out, and Baekhyun’s wearing the robes that Yixing bought for him in the marketplace. The way the wispy blue fabric hangs off his shoulders is making Yixing’s insides roil with want.

The morning quickly turns to afternoon, and their conversation turns from the shapes of the clouds to the shapes of each other’s lips, the grass staining both of their robes as they turn over each other in the light of the sun.

Out here, so far from civilization, it’s easy to forget everything that has happened, and easy to pretend that they are the only two people in the world.

“What if someone comes?” Baekhyun complains as Yixing presses him into the grass, kissing along the perfect line of his jaw and the gentle curve of his collar bones.

“No one will come,” Yixing reassures, sliding a finger into the fold of Baekhyun’s robes.

And Baekhyun seems to forget his earlier reluctance, his mouth falling open as his body opens underneath Yixing’s touch. His fingers, worn with calluses, hold onto Yixing’s arms, following the way his hands explore all over Baekhyun’s body, and his legs, strong and slender, curl around Yixing’s waist.

When Yixing slides inside, Baekhyun lets out a long breath, like he’s pouring all of his existence into Yixing’s gentle presses. His eyes fall shut in bliss, and Yixing craves his peaceful mortality.

...

The town square is busy, servants shopping for food, street urchins tussling in the alleyways, every so often a soldier. The sounds of hawkers and peddlers fills the air, along with the shouts of a man dressed in a priest’s robes.

“There is only one true goddess, and She is merciful! Let yourselves enter Her loving embrace, for She will forgive your sin!”

Yixing scoffs as they pass by the shouting man. “Some of those appear every now and again. Especially after wars.”

“Who do you think he follows?” Baekhyun asks, half of his attention focused on a street performer near the fountain.

“No one important,” Yixing says dismissively. “Any truly powerful goddess would not resort to such cheap tricks as claiming that she’s the only one in all of existence.”

“Shall we go watch?” Baekhyun suggests, pointing towards the fountain.

The performer is playing on a set of drums, sheep’s hide stretched over hollowed out gourds and wooden frames. They’re layman’s instruments, well-worn and practical, without the gilded ornament used by the performers Yixing used to see in the closed concert halls of the town.

After the performance, they clap along with the rest of the crowd, and Baekhyun goes up to the performer to exchange tips about materials and tools. As he waits, Yixing watches the crowd, always amazed with how quickly the mortal world recovers from the scars inflicted upon it by the gods.

Baekhyun waves at Yixing when he’s done and they go to their favorite vendor to barter some paper and brushes in exchange for their wool. Yixing wants to write down all the music that Baekhyun has played, that flows from his fingertips as easily as the prayers into the stream near Yixing’s home.

They walk back as evening begins to peek over the mountains, discussing ways to record the different notes, with all their different shades and colors.

…

“It’s a great view,” Baekhyun promises when they set out that morning, leaving Mongryong to guard the sheep inside their enclosure.

“Have we ever been this way before?” Yixing asks. The hills look familiar, but slightly different. The terrain is a bit more rugged, and the plants are smaller and hardier.

“I’ve been this way before a couple of times,” Baekhyun calls from further ahead. “But not with you. I came after you left.”

“We should explore more,” Yixing says. “I don’t know these mountains as well as you.”

Baekhyun agrees, and as they walk through the grass the sun climbs higher and higher in the sky. They reach the steepest part of the climb when the sun is at its height, and they decide to take a break for lunch before finishing the climb.

It’s still early afternoon when they reach the peak, the air sparkling with mist from the waterfall. They stand admiring it and watching a young girl navigate gingerly up the set of stairs carved into the cliff face. Behind them, they can see the thatched rooftops of the town, the patchwork green of the surrounding farms.

“We should come here more often,” Yixing decides, and Baekhyun agrees.

“We’ll take Mongryong next time,” he says.

“Want to see who can stand under the waterfall the longest?” Yixing suggests, his voice a dare.

Baekhyun sticks his tongue out. “Let’s bet.”

But as Yixing is thinking they both turn towards the source of a high-pitched scream. The girl has slipped on the steps and fallen, blood quickly pooling around her tiny body.

They both run towards her, Yixing’s heart clenching painfully. She lies broken on the grass next to the waterfall, her breath uneven and gurgling.

“Will she survive?” Baekhyun’s voice is high with panic.

Yixing shudders. Her body is contorted at a grotesque angle, her unseeing eyes rolling in her skull. Mortals are all born so perfect, but the terrors of their world always destroy them. It’s the most painful for him to watch, knowing he can save them.

“One of her ribs punctured a lung,” Yixing says softly. “The journey back to town will kill her, and even if it doesn’t, the other priests will not be able to do anything but ease her passing.”

Baekhyun turns away, covering his mouth. Yixing can hear the girl’s soft whimpers. Every breath she takes fills her throat with more blood. Yixing can see that she would have grown to be very beautiful, and there is a bundle of wildflowers tucked into one of her pockets.

“Is there anything you can do for her pain?” Baekhyun asks after a long time.

Yixing sighs and crouches down next to her. He can sense that she only has a few moments left in this world, before she goes to Kai’s domain. He carefully rearranges her limbs into a more natural position, trying his best not to jostle her even though he knows it won’t make a difference in her ocean of pain. Then he places a hand on her skin, clammy to the touch, ready to give her the nudge into Limbo she needs to escape the pain.

He hesitates as he hears Baekhyun walking away, unwilling to see the girl go.

It would be such a shame.

He sighs and hardens his resolve, reaching for more of his godly powers.

“Everything will be just fine,” he whispers, and lets the spiritual energy flow through him.

He can sense Baekhyun turning around and watching him now that the girl’s sounds have quieted. Her eyes gradually close and her breathing steadies, until it looks like she’s simply asleep.

Baekhyun crouches down next to her and places the back of his hand against her mouth.

“What did you do to her?” he asks.

Yixing gently lifts the girl up and walks away to prop her up on a nearby tree. “She should wake soon. Hopefully she can tell us where she comes from.”

Baekhyun hasn’t followed him. He’s hesitating. “Yixing, what did you do?”

Yixing spends a few moments fixing the girl’s hair and clothing before he responds.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would find out this way.” As he turns around, he lets his human skin slip ever so slightly, so Baekhyun can see the raw god-stuff underneath. The wind picks up and a swirl of dandelion seeds blows over them both, and Yixing can see the recognition in Baekhyun’s eyes. And worse, the fear.

He falls to his knees, head down. “My lord, I apologize for not recognizing you. Please have mercy on this mortal soul.”

Yixing quickly pulls his human skin back on and bends down, lifting Baekhyun’s chin with one hand. “Baekhyun, it’s still me. Just another side of me.”

Baekhyun’s mouth is set in a hard line, a single bead of sweat trickling down his neck. He won’t meet Yixing’s gaze.

“Are you afraid?” Yixing asks softly, and it breaks his heart to see Baekhyun nod.

Yixing turns away, watching the clouds blow across the sky. The distance between them suddenly feels as wide as an ocean, and it’s terrifying. Of all the ways to lose Baekhyun, this is perhaps one of the worst.

How can he make Baekhyun understand that it’s still him, neither mortal nor spirit but both?

He turns back, pulling Baekhyun into his arms. He feels him relax, ever so slightly; his body knows what his mind cannot comprehend.

“Baekhyun, it’s still me,” he says. “The me who wades through mountain streams and grassy meadows with you, the one who listens to you play the lute, the one who loves you.”

He hesitates, then leans in for a kiss. Baekhyun seems reluctant, and he pulls away, watching Baekhyun follow involuntarily.

“I love you,” he repeats. “Can’t it just be as simple as that? Does it matter who we are, what we are? We still found each other after all those years. I came back because I love you.”

The memory brings tears to both of their eyes, and Yixing wipes away Baekhyun’s tears with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t you remember?” he asks softly, and Baekhyun nods slowly.

“I remember. I love you too.”

Yixing relaxes. That’s good enough; if nothing else works out, at least they have that.

“We should bring her back to town,” Yixing says after a moment. “Then we can talk more.”

After a moment, Baekhyun agrees.

…

It takes a long time for things to go back to normal.

The girl doesn’t have a family, or one that she can go back to. They abandoned her on the mountain that day, so they would have one less mouth to feed. So Yixing and Baekhyun take her to live with Baekhyun’s brother, and his wife dotes on her like her own daughter. They go to visit her every so often, and as she grows older Yixing can see the way she glows, as one touched by the divine always does. Yixing spends more time at the temple in town, with the air between him and Baekhyun still stilted and awkward.

“Maybe you should forget about this one,” Jongin says flippantly one day while he’s visiting.

They’re out for a ride, the cold mountain air filling their lungs until Yixing feels like he’s been cleaned from the inside out.

“I could never forget about him,” Yixing sighs. “And besides, even if I did, I would hate myself for not trying harder.”

Jongin shrugs. “Gods and mortals were not meant to be together. Immortality would be unbearably lonely otherwise.”

Yixing rolls his eyes at the almost-tautology, but he can’t disagree with it.

...

But things do go back to normal slowly, as they meet by chance in the remotest peaks of the mountains, Yixing with his priest’s staff and Baekhyun with his shepherd’s, as they wade through mountain streams to catch fish together, as they teach each other the music they’ve learned since the last time they met.

“I found a nice abandoned shrine the other day. It’s on top of a little hill, with a stream. When you follow the stream back into the woods, there’s a good pool for swimming in, and a waterfall,” Baekhyun says as they walk along one of the rugged woodland tracks on the far side of the mountain. “We should go there when you have more time.”

Yixing sees him glance over, as if checking that he didn’t overstep his bounds.

“I’d like that,” Yixing says, smiling. “I’ll ask around the gods’ realm, see if we can’t find the shrine’s owner.”

Baekhyun looks startled but smiles back. “Sure.”

…

Two years pass before Yixing starts living in the cabin again, the temple in town stable enough without his help, and Baekhyun visiting as frequently as he did before the war.

Mongryong is a bit too old for puppies, but Baekhyun happens to receive two in town one day, from another shepherd whose dog had a litter that was too large to take care of. They stay in the cabin while Baekhyun is out in the fields, and Yixing conjures up all manner of toys for them to play with, stolen from this corner or that of the gods’ realm.

“Don’t you wish they would stay this small forever?” Baekhyun asks as he scoops up the sleeping puppies from the floor and comes to sit next to Yixing.

“I do,” Yixing agrees. “I wish I could protect them and keep them forever.”

Baekhyun turns to give him an odd look, and, feeling uncomfortable, he leans in for a kiss to distract himself.

It works, the puppies scrambling off their laps as they roll into a more comfortable position on the bed. It feels good, and warm, and Yixing wishes he’s the god of time so he can freeze this moment forever.

It’s hard to forget being together with someone, even if the rational mind wants to forget it, and it’s so much easier to be together than apart. It isn’t like a sudden switch, but that day Yixing realizes that they’ve never been so in love.

… 

It’s a warm spring afternoon when Yixing asks. It’s raining hard outside, and they’ve been sheltering in the cabin for most of the day, Mongryong staring forlornly at the drenched landscape outside through the window, the puppies wrestling in a jumble of fur on the floor.

“Do you want to become a god, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun only laughs and continues working on the carving in his hands, but when Yixing doesn’t say anything he seems to realize that he’s serious. “What?”

“You’re most of the reason that I became the god of music, so it only seems fair that you should get the title instead,” Yixing says simply.

Baekhyun frowns. “But I’m just me.”

“You’re  _ you _ ,” Yixing says. “Don’t say it like you don’t know how precious that is.”

Baekhyun smiles, putting his work down to crawl onto the bed next to Yixing. “Where did you get that sweet little mouth from?”

He won’t be deterred. “Baekhyun, we can spend an eternity together, on the mountain of the gods. I’ll show you the worlds, all of them.”

“I would love to go there with you.”

Yixing can feel more words coming, and he waits, letting Baekhyun grab one of his hands and inspect the fair skin, the way his bones flutter underneath.

“Has it ever happened before?” Baekhyun asks finally.

“Of course,” Yixing replies. “Many mortals have ascended to become gods or goddesses. No one can even tell the difference anymore. After all, all mortals have a seed of the spiritual inside of them, and gods are simply the intersection of a mortal soul and spiritual flesh.”

Baekhyun wrinkles his nose. “That sounds uncomfortable.”

Yixing laughs. “You’ll get used to it.”

Baekhyun brushes the pad of his thumb over Yixing’s knuckles, his forehead creased with thought. Yixing watches the way the tip of his tongue darts out to moisten his lips, the steady rhythmic movement of his breathing.

“I don’t think I’m ready to give up being mortal,” he decides. “At least for now, I’d like to remain a human.”

Yixing can’t believe what he’s hearing. “What?”

Baekhyun smiles. “Being a god seems difficult. I’d like to selfishly live my mortal life, not knowing everything and being fine with that. I’d like to let the current of my life carry me for just a bit longer.”

“But you haven’t even asked me what comes after this.”

“After I die?” Baekhyun shakes his head. “I’d rather not know.”

Yixing hesitates, his hand resting on the fragile curve of Baekhyun’s arm, so weak and so breakable. He’s terrified by the thought of the inevitable fate of Baekhyun’s mortal life. But Baekhyun didn’t reply in an absolute, and so Yixing is willing to wait a little bit longer and ask again later.

_ All mortals fear oblivion _ , he tells himself.  _ What mortal wouldn’t want to be a god? _

“Fine,” he says. “But I’ll keep pestering you.”

Baekhyun’s lips are curved into a smile as he places a soft kiss on the corner of Yixing’s mouth. “Go ahead.”

“Also,” Yixing says as he maneuvers Baekhyun on top of him, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh of his thighs as Baekhyun kisses into his mouth. “I don’t know everything. I just know a lot.”

Yixing feels Baekhyun’s hand on his chest, exploring. “Sure you do.”

Baekhyun’s mouth moves down Yixing’s neck and chest, and Yixing lets himself be carried in Baekhyun’s current.

…

The moment he steps into the mortal world again, Yixing can tell that something isn’t right. Everything feels muted, as though someone has swathed the entire world with a layer of cotton, muffling all sound and stiffening all movement.

He immediately sheds his human skin and changes to the form of an eagle, flying as fast as he can towards the cabin. The winds are strong and try to blow him backwards, but he flies against them, using his godly powers to force his way through.

He’s still quite far away when he senses the presence of another god, their consciousness pressing up against his own. He tries to tamp down the panic as he glides over the now-familiar forested hills and cold mountain streams.

The cabin looks the same on the outside, but Yixing can feel his soul twisting uncomfortably in anguish, knowing something isn’t right. He descends in front of the cabin, pulling his human skin back on, and steps into the cabin.

When he sees what’s inside, he falls to the ground, suddenly unable to support the weight of what he’s done, of what he’s allowed to happen.

There’s a beautiful woman inside, her long mane of dark red hair falling like water over her bare shoulders. She smiles when she sees him, her arms wrapping tighter around Baekhyun’s dead body. His head lolls back on her shoulder, blood streaming from the opening on his neck, and her mouth is red.

“The goddess of blood,” he forces out, his voice unsteady. He tries to reach out, but his body is disobeying, and dread fills his limbs.

“Lay,” she says. “God of healing, god of music, who sat on the peace council that carved up my father’s kingdom.”

He forces his body to move as if controlling something outside of himself, his arm reaching out to brush her aside as he takes Baekhyun’s body into his arms. When he feels the sickening weight against his own chest, a full-body shudder ripples over his skin, and he closes his eyes.

“Why?” Yixing asks, and his voice cracks. “Why?”

She sniffs, stalking around him as her cloak floats around her slender body. “I wanted you to know. I wanted to take something precious from you too.”

“What have I ever done to you?” His voice has no edge to it, only emptiness.

Her mouth opens into a sneer, her red lips shining. “You really didn’t know? You are probably one of the densest gods I’ve ever met. It’s pure luck that you aren’t dead yet.”

The hollow feeling in Yixing’s chest feels like it’s going to suffocate him. 

He’s only half listening to her words as she continues, “My father was not stupid. The king of the gods was not stupid. Think about why he would let Chen inside his camp. What could he possibly have to gain from letting a trickster through his defenses?”

Yixing shakes his head. He never should have let it get this far. But where should he have stopped? Should he have never gone back to the mortal world after the war? Perhaps he should have never listened to the prayers of Baekhyun’s mother. Then he would still be alive, instead of crumpled in Yixing’s arms.

The goddess of blood continues to pace back and forth in front of him. “By then we’d lost so many of our worshippers. We were all suffering, ready to waste away into nothingness once more. My father knew there was a way -- a forbidden way -- to get our powers back without mortal prayer. And Chen was right there with the words he wanted to hear.”

“ _ The god of healing, Lay, has given me the secret to get your powers back. I’ll bring it to you in your camp, so it will not fall into the wrong hands. _ “

“My father was desperate. He thought that it was his last chance to win the war. Little did he know that it was only a ploy to get him to lower his guard. He didn’t think the playful little god of fireworks could be capable of such treachery, but then again he did not truly know Chen.”

She waits, as if for his response, but it’s not worth arguing with her. Maybe he’s guilty, maybe he’s innocent. What does it matter, in the affairs of the gods? All he knows is that the echoing blankness inside of him will only be quenched with her life.

“It appears that you did not truly know me,” he says. “Even my patience has its limits.”

It’s the first time he’s killed another god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really into mythological kind of stories lately! I feel like chapter got particularly overwrought in some places, but aren't that what myths are for? This has been a WIP for forever, but I'm basically ready to post all of it now. After this there will be a short interlude, the second part, and then an epilogue.


	2. Interlude: Limbo

You feel empty, bone-achingly empty.

“Am I dead?” are your first words.

You open your eyes and look at the shadowy realm around you. It’s strangely empty for Hell, and strangely quiet too. There are no flames of punishment casting a flickering light on the soft ground or anguished screams rending the humid air.

“Your body is dead,” comes a voice from behind you. “But your soul has yet to rest. Welcome to Limbo, Baekhyun.”

The man is tall and handsome, in a severe sort of way, shadows swirling around him like a cloak.

“Is that my name?” you ask.

The man smiles and offers you a hand. You didn’t realize you were on the ground. “Yes. Come, we have quite a journey.”

You find it easy to spring to your feet. You realize you aren’t wearing anything, and suddenly you’re covered in robes, pale blue and wispy. They feel familiar.

“What should I call you?” you ask the man as you both set off in a seemingly arbitrary direction.

He frowns, as if thinking. “Call me Jongin.” He pauses. “You must have questions.”

You only have one. “Where is he?”

Jongin looks surprised. “Who?”

“I don’t know. Someone very important to me. We lost each other suddenly.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that,” Jongin said. “Do you have any other questions?”

You think. “Where are we going?”

Jongin seems relieved to answer this question. “The nexus. It’s the branching point between Limbo, the mortal world, and the beyond. All souls must pass through it on their way to rest.”

You can see a faint light on the horizon. “What rest?”

Jongin shrugs. “Oblivion.”

“So I suppose the hellfire and damnation was a lie. The pearly gates and paradise too. And the reincarnation.”

“Not exactly.” You sidestep a hole in the ground. When you try to look in it, your vision blacks out. “All of that is just a model for what really happens after mortal death. It’s not exactly the truth, but it’s not exactly a lie either. They all explain some facet of reality, but they’re all imperfect. Taken together, they begin to approximate the truth.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry. No mortal can ever understand.” Jongin smiles in a way you’re sure he thinks is reassuring. Changing his tone to a lighter one, he goes on, “Your pathway to the nexus is quite uneventful. No demons or fire yet.”

“Yet?”

“Well, everyone’s journey to the nexus is different. Some are easier, and some are harder. Some are longer, and some are shorter. It depends on how your soul projects the journey, like how you were able to produce clothes for yourself earlier.”

The ground is beginning to slope upwards. “You mean I could change this place?”

Jongin nods. “Of course, but not everyone has such good control over their souls. Some souls struggle through their journeys naked and bleeding, stalked by bloodhounds and wading through lava.”

You can see the peak of the hill, a little stone shrine atop it. The ground is grassy; the dirt feels good under your bare feet. The emptiness has settled into the pit of your belly, but you feel something fragile and light fluttering in your chest.

“Well done,” Jongin says. From the top of the hill, you can see a huge crater in the distance. Its bottom gives way to nothingness, and there’s a crowd amassing around it. “That’s it.”

“So are you a grim reaper?”

You walk along a bubbling stream on your way down the hill.

“No.”

After a few moments of silence, you figure there’s no elaboration forthcoming and you instead ask, “Why can’t I remember anything? How can I be judged if I don’t know what I’ve done?”

“There is no divine judgement,” Jongin answers simply. “Every soul judges itself. Usually, the more you remember, the heavier your soul is, and the harder it is for you to rest. It’s good that you don’t remember anything. You’ll be able to rest easily.”

But you’re not ready to rest.

As you approach the crater, you fall into step on a worn footpath, joining with other footpaths further down. They’re each traversed by a single pair of people, although you’re not sure that’s the right word for it. Some of them look like humans, but there are strange creatures slithering and galloping down the paths. Some don’t look like they have any bones, and others don’t seem like they’re moving of their own volition at all, but rather buffeted along by the wind that seems to be sucking everything into the crater. The center of it makes your vision black out.

“What are those things? I don’t think I’m creative enough to have imagined them.”

Jongin laughed. “You didn’t think humans were the only sentient species in this universe, did you?”

You both fall into line behind a beautiful woman escorted by a little dog-like thing. Everyone is lining up around the crater, and you see their escorts materialize some sort of weapon -- a spear here, fire there, a dagger there. The souls are executed one by one, and they disappear into mist. One of them tries to make a run for it back up the crater, only to be dragged back by a shadow wielding a shadowy club. The shadow extends a salute in your direction and disappears.

“Are you ready to rest?” Jongin asks, and he’s holding a sword. His eyes are red.

“No,” you answer, and sprint for the center of the crater. Dragons materialize in the sky above you and your footprints erupt in flames behind you. The shadows pursuing you howl and scream.

…

“Stop,” Kai said.

The shadows fell out of the sky and coalesced before him.

“My lord, shouldn’t we stop him?”

“Let him go,” Kai answered. “I’m interested in that one. And bring me to the king. I have an offer for him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know if you have any questions. There's a lot to keep track of in terms of worldbuilding...  
> Anyway, next chapter should be coming soon since it's almost done!


	3. Present Day

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yixing demanded. There was a ringing in his ears, and the TV exploded in white noise.

“Calm the fuck down,” Jongin said evenly, “or I’ll drag you back to the mountain with me, fuck your precious mortal.”

Yixing forced himself to sit. The TV switched back to the music show. He watched Jongin take a careful sip of his coffee.

“Reincarnation doesn’t make sense,” Jongin said. “When I let him go, I didn’t know how long it would take for him to fall back into the mortal world. I didn’t know if he’d be reincarnated at all, let alone be reincarnated in a species with music or healing. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

“It’s been four thousand fucking years,” Yixing hissed. “I thought he’d forgotten about me and moved on. I mourned him. You didn’t tell me his soul has been wandering for fuck knows how long.”

“It’s not like that.” Jongin rubbed his forehead. “I struck a deal with Kyungsoo. He sent his best soul eaters after him. He had every door opened for him, every path cleared for him to make his journey back to the mortal world as smooth as possible. I even fucking pulled some strings with Soojung to get the right body.”

Yixing was livid. “You sent  _ soul eaters _ after him?”

“It was the only way,” Jongin retorted. “My shadows can only shape the trajectory of Limbo. Only soul eaters can affect the path of a soul to the mortal realm.”

“Don’t tell me what I already know.” Yixing paused and seethed for a moment. “Where is he?”

Jongin huffed. “This is what happens when I try to do you a favor.”

…

“I’m heading out,” Baekhyun announced, sticking his head into the bathroom.

“Have fun with your telescopes,” Chanyeol shouted back, the top of his head barely visible over the shower curtain.

Baekhyun grabbed his keys from the hook near the door before heading outside. It was brutally cold out, but their lawn seemed to be doing well. The roses were blossoming long before they were supposed to, and Baekhyun plucked a fig from the tree in the conservatory before making his way to the university.

There was a spring in his step. He woke up with a new idea to try on his newest dataset, one that would hopefully massage out the elusive pattern he had been seeking for years now. He hummed as he hopped onto the bus headed downtown and sang along quietly to the music thumping in his headphones.

His undergraduate research assistant was already in the office when he got in, watering one of the plants on the windowsill. Seulgi was smart, diligent, and had the same weakness for sweets that Baekhyun unfortunately possessed.

“I have a new idea,” he said as he slung his bag onto the hook next to his desk and logged onto his computer.

“Good luck!” Seulgi said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, heading back to her own desk.

…

“When are you coming back to the mountain?” Jongdae whined as he slurped his drink. “It’s getting boring over there, you know.”

“I’m sure you’ll find some way to stir up trouble,” Yixing said serenely as he squinted at the newest copy of  _ The Astrophysical Journal _ . “You know, I think he’s just smart all by himself. I couldn’t give him intelligence if I wanted to.”

“Oh please.” Jongdae rolled his eyes. “If the magical green thumb didn’t give it away, the whole being a music prodigy thing put a huge sign over his head: Hello Spirit Realm, I Am Favored By The Gods!”

Yixing frowned. “Spirits can’t affect the mortal world like that.”

“Who the fuck even knows, now?” Jongdae exclaimed. “The whole decoupling of our realms thing has gotten everything fucked up!”

Yixing hummed in agreement and went back to the article. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the waitress bring Jongdae a new drink.

“Don’t you have a kingdom to run?” Yixing asked when Jongdae’s slurping finally got to be too much.

“It’s more fun when I let it run itself,” Jongdae said with a shrug. “Too much order in our world leads to a boring mortal one.”

Yixing sighed. “Well, I’m sure you can find another way to entertain yourself,  _ away from me _ .”

“ _ Well _ you’re no fun,” Jongdae said, finishing his drink with a particularly ostentatious slurp and standing up from the table. “I’ll see you at the Council on Theories of Everything then.”

“Does that mean you’re actually planning to show up?” Yixing asked, taking an eye off the page to glance at Jongdae.

The trickster god huffed and stormed out of the cafe, leaving the faint scent of ozone in his wake.

…

Baekhyun sighed as he opened up the grant proposal for the fourth time that day. He had really wanted to avoid finishing the proposal in a caffeine-induced haze the night before it was due, but his procrastination was getting the better of him at the moment. He couldn’t bring himself to work on something so mind-numbingly soul-sucking as a grant proposal when there was actual science to be done. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. He was surprised. He thought that everyone else in the lab had already headed home for the day, including the receptionist.

“Come in,” he said, closing the grant proposal for the fourth time that day.

It was a student, by the look of his backpack and the physics textbook tucked under his arm. Baekhyun had forgotten that this was the time for his advertised office hours. Students rarely showed up to them when there wasn’t an upcoming exam, so recently they were more of a time for meditation and procrastination.

“I’m here for office hours,” he said with a dimpled smile.

“Have a seat,” Baekhyun said, motioning to the couch by the window as he rolled his chair away from his desk. “What’s your name?”

“Zhang Yixing,” the student replied, taking a seat and folding his scarf up. “I’m taking your relativity class this semester.”

Baekhyun took another look at the student. He certainly looked familiar, with delicate features and clear eyes that seemed at the same time innocent and wise. “Oh, yes. I think I remember you from lecture.”

Yixing smiled.

“Is there anything in particular that you’d like to discuss?” Baekhyun prompted, glancing at the clock. It was about 6, two hours before he usually left work.

“I had a question about something in the textbook. You mentioned in lecture last Tuesday that we could also derive time dilation from the Lorentz transformation, but I’m having trouble following the derivation in the textbook.”

Baekhyun chuckled. “That’s a bit farther ahead in the semester, but I suppose we could talk about it now.” He got up and picked up a marker from the whiteboard. “Let’s write down what we already know.”

As he uncapped the marker, his eye caught on the orchid near the bookshelf. Seulgi tended to overwater, and Baekhyun had thought that its roots were getting sick. But now the leaves were vibrant and green, so he decided he wouldn’t need to repot it after all.

He cleared his throat. “First, let’s forget about our human notion of time, because it’s a skewed perspective. Time doesn’t have any objective existence is the way we know it, although you might see in later classes that it can be said to have a direction. But that’s a digression. Anyway, as you know, the Lorentz factor…”

…

The death of time had destroyed the delicate balance of power on the mountain of the gods. Minor gods and goddesses had their powers shifted and torn and rearranged, and changing alliances meant that new factions began vying for Chen’s long-held position as king of gods. It was only through an alliance of seven of the most powerful gods and goddesses that his place was re-established, and peace was restored on the mountain.

But that wasn’t the most disastrous consequence of the end of time. For time was the glue that bound the three realms together; without time, the realms began drifting apart. The gods could leap into the mortal realm as they were accustomed to, but they had no idea how much time had passed since their last trip. Every journey was a gamble, and as a result, gods had begun to take up sole residence in one of the three realms. The growing expatriate community of gods living in the mortal world had disrupted the balance there -- shifting weather patterns, increasing numbers of natural disasters, and strange sightings were becoming more and more common.

Nobody knew if everything would work out in the end, or even what would happen next.

…

“Don’t forget the burgers!” Baekhyun stuck his head out onto the deck and yelled at Chanyeol, who was very busy talking up one of Baekhyun’s pretty colleagues from the computer science department.

Baekhyun laughed as Chanyeol smacked his forehead and ran to the grill, which belched smoke as he opened it up with a moan of disappointment. Baekhyun quickly closed the sliding door onto the deck to prevent the smoke from making its way inside, where many of the guests for their annual Fourth of July barbeque had sheltered against the almost unbearable heat outside.

“Baekhyun, where do you want the macaroni salad?” Taeyeon asked as she let herself in the front door. Everyone laughed when they saw the size of the enormous foil tray she was carrying; she had always been known for going overboard on potlucks. It was especially endearing considering her reputation for having a cold personality; Baekhyun was lucky enough to be one of the few people that knew the warmth underneath her intimidatingly beautiful exterior.

Baekhyun rushed to clear a space on the dining room table and helped her nestle the tray in between the hamburger buns and the deviled eggs. Taeyeon gave him a kiss on the cheek and headed off to mingle with their old college friends in the living room. As he was moving the pitcher of lemonade away from its precarious position on the edge of the table, he heard a familiar voice from behind him.

“Where should I put the potato salad?”

Baekhyun quickly put the lemonade down on the side table and took the much more reasonably portioned dish of potato salad.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Yixing,” he said as he settled the potato salad into the newly vacated position on the table, trying to hide his confusion at seeing his favorite student from last semester.

Yixing scratched the back of his head sheepishly, as if he was also confused. “I work with Chanyeol; he invited me last minute since my other plans fell through.”

“Oh!” Baekhyun smiled warmly. “He must have forgotten to mention it to me. It’s very admirable of you to be working and attending classes at the same time.”

Yixing smiled back. “I’ve always been interested in modern physics, but I was too busy in college to explore it thoroughly. Thankfully, the company has a partnership with the university to allow employees to learn some stuff in their free time. I’ll probably take a few more classes now that I’ve finished with yours.”

Baekhyun nodded approvingly, then laughed. “I have to admit that I’m a bit intimidated now that I know you’re not just some kid fresh out of high school.”

Yixing shook his head. “Don’t be! I still have so much to learn from you,  _ Professor _ .”

And Baekhyun believed him; strange as it sounded, something about the young engineer seemed almost familiar.

…

Yixing didn’t see Jongdae for a long time; the trickster god had probably returned to the mountain, and nobody knew what time period he would return in. That suited Yixing just fine, since he intended to spend the remainder of Baekhyun’s lifespan in the mortal world. Whatever mischief was happening in the realm of the gods, the gods there could deal with it. He had earned this time of rest anyway.

He saw Jongin occasionally; the god of shadows had always felt more comfortable among mortals, and had taken up residence not far from Yixing’s mortal home. Jongin reported on the little spats between the gods living in the mortal world. The sources of conflict were, unsurprisingly, the same as they had always been: stolen lovers, perceived slights, territory disputes. Yixing trusted that everything would resolve itself in due time, and instead spent his time on human entertainments, for he was still enough of a newcomer in the mortal world to find  _ League of Legends _ endlessly amusing.

…

Baekhyun was happy when Yixing started hanging out with them infrequently. He and Chanyeol shared an interest in music production, and he had taken a liking to the vegetable garden at their house, thriving despite one of the hottest summers in living memory. Sometimes he just came over and helped Baekhyun pull weeds, excitedly discussing what new seeds they could plant later in the season. Yixing lived in an apartment, and he couldn’t grow much more than a few herbs on the windowsill and a couple of tomato plants on the balcony, so Baekhyun was glad that he was getting the opportunity to dig into some real earth.

Yixing intertwined himself in their everyday lives so easily that Baekhyun didn’t have time to be confused. He was just happy to have made a new friend outside of the university. And there was something about Yixing that made him comfortable, that disarmed him.

…

“You have such a nice piano,” Yixing said, running his finger over the glossy black surface. They’d just finished a movie; the end credits were still rolling on the TV. 

Baekhyun came back from the kitchen with two beers. “I used to play a lot when I was a kid, and when I moved out nobody played it anymore. My parents spent a ton of money to ship it over here.”

“You must be really good, then.” Yixing took a sip of his beer.

Baekhyun shrugged and set his beer down on a coaster. He placed a familiar hand on the piano. “I’ve always had a place for music in my life, but it’s never really been a passion, just like breathing has never been a passion. It feels weird to go for too long without playing though.”

“Play something for me, then.”

Baekhyun took another sip of his beer and sat down on the bench. He opened the cover and placed his hands on the keys, then paused.

“Sit next to me,” he said. “It feels like a recital if you’re standing.”

Yixing sat down on the bench. They were close enough that their shoulders brushed, and Yixing moved backwards on the bench to give Baekhyun enough room to play.

His playing was effortless, and it was clear that he enjoyed it, and he enjoyed it ambiently, like the warmth of spring sunshine after a long winter, or the satisfying crunch of dead leaves in fall. He turned to Yixing after a few minutes of playing, flashing an easy smile, and Yixing couldn’t help but smile back.

“I hope this doesn’t sound weird coming from your former professor,” Baekhyun said, “but I’m glad we became friends.”

“Not at all,” Yixing replied. “I’m glad too.”

…

_ too hot for this good boy _

Baekhyun smiled at the picture of Yixing’s dog sprawled on the ground with his belly facing up, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

_ we should go to the beach sometime _

They’d been texting back and forth almost constantly for the past few weeks, and it was really comfortable. Baekhyun found himself staying awake to wait for Yixing’s response, or lingering for a few more moments in the break room to think of a good response. Even Chanyeol had caught on, which meant that it must’ve been pretty bad.

He sighed and slipped his phone back into his pocket, clicking on the draft of his most recent paper. He’d been playing with the framing for a while, trying to get it just right so the readers would see how important his work was.

_ Once treated as a mathematical shortcoming in models of general relativity, wormholes have recently gained interest from experimentalists for their ability to shed light _

His fingers fluttered over the keyboard as he looked around the room for inspiration. His eyes settled on the orchid, which had been thriving despite Seulgi’s repeated overwaterings. Maybe it was a different variety. He made a mental note to ask one of his botanist friends later.

There was something about the soft white of the petals, the delicate curve of the roots, that got his brain working better.

_ for their ability to shed light on the corners of modern physics, where pure theory has traditionally broken down. Notably, in Byun et. al (2021), it was shown that wormholes can be treated as... _

...

“I presume this was you,” Yixing said, sliding his phone over so Jongin could take a look at the news headline. They’d been having this weekly gathering for years now, meeting up to discuss the status of affairs in their little circle of gods. This time they had chosen an old favorite, a used bookstore with a cafe. It was just getting to be that sleepy part of afternoon that they both enjoyed so much.

_ NIGHT DURING DAY?: BLACK SUN SPOTTED IN NORTHERN CANADA _

Jongin huffed. “It’s not my fault. I was being chased by those two lunatics. Couldn’t they just take up residence on some other planet?”

Although Kai was the god of Limbo, the twin goddesses of life and death had long staked their claim to his shadowy realm, for they had dominion over the souls that passed through Limbo on their way to rest or reincarnation. But though life and death were two faces of the same coin, the coin of reincarnation often landed on its rim, spinning endlessly in restless torment, or it disappeared altogether into oblivion. Their power over Limbo was slippery at best, like trying to catch one of the rainbow fish that lived in the moonlight streams of the gods’ mountain.

“I wonder what’s gotten them all worked up suddenly,” Yixing said thoughtfully. “You’ve co-existed peacefully for millennia, so why do they insist on antagonizing you now?”

“The mortal world is too small for us,” Jongin replied, as if he’d thought about it before. “We weren’t meant to live in a place with so little spiritual energy.”

Yixing sighed. “I’m just grateful that there’s enough to live on. I’m not greedy for more.”

Jongin rolled his eyes. “Easy for you to say. You’re at the height of your power. Who knew medicine would become so trendy? Or music, for that matter?”

Yixing laughed. “That’s all thanks to Baekhyun.”

…

“How’d he get sick?” Yixing asked, wrinkling his nose.

It was a beautiful day, with a sky so blue that Baekhyun half thought he could smudge a bit off with his finger. The car was almost loaded for their camping trip, Mongryong wagging his tail furiously in the back seat.

Baekhyun sighed. “He claims he ate something bad at the restaurant last night. But I know for a fact that he’s been working himself to an early grave for the past two weeks. I didn’t see him in person once during that entire time. I think it finally caught up to him.”

Yixing looked sheepish. “His division does take advantage of him a lot. Just because he’s the best at his job, doesn’t mean he needs to do everything.”

Baekhyun threw his backpack into the trunk and shut the door. “Well, at least the launch was successful, so he can take a break for a little bit. We’ll just have to drag him out next time too.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Yixing smiled and took the tumbler that Baekhyun offered him. “Thanks for coffee.”

“Let’s hit the road!” Baekhyun shouted, jumping into the passenger’s seat. “I’m so glad that I won’t have to think about any reviews for the whole weekend.”

Yixing started the engine and started backing out of their driveway, his arm over the back of Baekhyun’s seat. “You’re going to love it. I’ll show you the good fishing spot we found last time, and we can cook some for dinner.”

Baekhyun opened the window and let the warm summer breeze wash over his face. It was probably the last weekend of summer they had left, and he intended to enjoy it.

…

“Wait, so can you explain how that predicts the existence of wormholes?” Yixing asked.

He watched his toes dangling in the water. They’d been quite successful so far, catching two fish each already. They were swimming in a bucket behind them, not knowing their fate. Mongryong had barked at them for a while, but eventually got bored of them and decided to nap on a warm rock instead.

“It doesn’t predict the existence of wormholes, exactly,” Baekhyun said. “It predicts that it’s possible, and even probable, to create them.”

“How probable?”

Baekhyun picked up a stone and skipped it across the water, watching the ripples spread in front of them.

“We haven’t gotten the numbers completely worked out,” he said. “But it wouldn’t be possible for our current society. We don’t currently have the ability to harness that much power. Regardless, it’s certainly within the realm of possibility given the setting of physical constants in our universe, and it could happen randomly as a result of catastrophic celestial events, or it could be done on purpose by a society much more advanced than ours. That of course begs the question.”

Yixing smiled. “Of course.  _ The _ question.”

“Is that why you chose to work in the aerospace industry?” Baekhyun asked, cocking his head to the side.

Yixing shrugged. “Humans were always meant to go beyond. They’d never be satisfied to just stay stagnant.”

Baekhyun nodded and leaned back against the tree behind him. “That’s what makes it so exciting, isn’t it? We’re all so small, but we can still do some pretty big things.”

…

The mountains were chilly at night, and Baekhyun was grateful that Yixing forced him to pack an extra jacket just in case. They sat bundled up by the fire and roasted marshmallows until the tips of their fingers were sticky and their breath was sweet.

“Do you think we’ll be able to come one more time this year?” Baekhyun asked, rubbing his belly in satisfaction.

Yixing stretched out and wrapped the blanket more tightly around his shoulders. He looked chilly, and Baekhyun scooted a little closer.

“I think we’ll have a couple more weekends before it gets too cold,” he said. “But the park will be open for a few more after that.”

Baekhyun nodded in approval. “What should we do tomorrow?”

“There’s a nice hike,” Yixing suggested. “It’s a few miles loop, around the lake.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Baekhyun gazed up at the starry sky above them, so different from the dark sky above the city. At times like these, he missed his grad school days, long nights spent at the telescope and days dozing through classes. “You want to know how I got into astrophysics?”

“Sure.” It was easy for Baekhyun to convince himself that Yixing sounded curious, with the way Yixing’s head tilted to the side as he watched Baekhyun. Anyway, Baekhyun was feeling strangely nostalgic that evening, and he didn’t think Yixing would mind indulging him too much.

“I was actually going to be a musician. My senior year of high school, I was getting ready to apply to all of the conservatories and everything, to pursue piano. I was really good at it, so it made sense at the time.”

“But one night I had a dream. I dreamt that I was standing on a mountainside, watching the stars. There was a little shrine next to me, like one of the historical ones you would see on a tour stop during your vacation. And the stars above me were exploding, like flowers blooming or paint rippling out into a bowl of water. They were like fireworks, but nothing like any of the fireworks I’ve ever seen. And I remember feeling so perfectly content, knowing that it was something bigger than I could comprehend.” He laughed. “When I woke up, I was crying, and then that afternoon I withdrew all of my applications to music programs and decided to pursue physics instead.”

Yixing was silent for a long time, so long that Baekhyun turned to look at him.

“You didn’t fall asleep, did you?”

Yixing shook his head. “It’s a beautiful story.”

He looked so sad, and Baekhyun didn’t understand why. He didn’t know what possessed him to do it. He leaned in and kissed Yixing.

He was ready to draw away, afraid of Yixing’s reaction, but he felt Yixing’s hand on the back of his neck, drawing him closer. His mouth tasted like s’mores, and Baekhyun couldn’t shake the feeling of almost-nostalgia, the feeling of waking from a dream to find reality even more pleasant.

…

Chanyeol looked at him oddly when they got out of the car at the house.

  
“Looks like you two had fun,” he said, starting to unload things from the trunk.

Yixing wilted a bit under Chanyeol’s gaze as he helped unload more of Baekhyun’s things. “You missed out.”

“We can all go next time,” Baekhyun said. He swung a bag across his shoulder and picked up his sleeping bag. “Yixing, why don’t you come inside for dinner? We can order.”

Yixing agreed, shutting the trunk and following the others inside. They ordered Indian food and put on a movie, trying to stretch the weekend out as long as possible before they had to return to the work week. It was comfortable, human.

…

“Do you always point out all of the inaccuracies in the movie?” Yixing laughed. It was getting dark quite early now, and the lights on the storefronts cast a cool glow over the pavement.

Baekhyun shrugged. “At least I don’t blurt out random observations at all the intense moments. Besides, I can always suspend my disbelief during the movie. But once you start asking me about it afterwards, I can’t resist saying how  _ completely _ unbelievable it is.”

Yixing smiled. “Okay, I guess I know for the future then.”

“Still want to grab dinner?” Baekhyun asked, glancing at his phone. They’d been on enough dates by now for Baekhyun to know that Yixing was always down for food, but he still asked just in case.

“Yeah, I know a great Chinese place.” Yixing grinned like he’d been planning it, and Baekhyun wouldn’t put it past him to suggest a movie just because he had a place nearby in mind for dinner.

The restaurant was really loud on a Saturday night, occasional shrieks erupting from some kind of family reunion happening in one of the private rooms, and some scared-looking white people trying to order from the waitress that kept nodding at her boyfriend through the window.

“Why are all good Chinese restaurants like this?” Baekhyun asked with a laugh as they slid into the same side of the booth, the other side occupied by booster seats.

Yixing shrugged. “It’s a law of nature.”

Baekhyun hooked his ankle playfully around Yixing’s as they spent more time teasing each other than looking at the menu. He let Yixing order in rapid-fire Mandarin when the waitress came around, and then he felt Yixing’s hand curling around his underneath the table, his fingers stroking softly at the skin.

Baekhyun felt giddy, like he was a teenager again and Yixing was a handsome stranger he’d met one day while lazing around in the sun, feeling the grass underneath his bare feet and the mountain breeze cool on his bare arms.

Except he’d never done that. It was impossible for him to have done that because he’d never lived near mountains before.

He shrugged off the weird sensation of deja vu and turned his attention towards the roast duck, his mouth already beginning to water.

…

“How are your classes going?”

Yixing shrugged. “They’re fun, but I miss my favorite professor.” He threw in a wink as he shut the fridge behind him, returning to the stove to stir in the cream.

Baekhyun groaned and Yixing felt fingers tickling his side.

“Watch it!” he yelped. “Hot soup!”

“It smells good,” Baekhyun commented.

The pasta Baekhyun was making smelled amazing too. Yixing poured the soup into two bowls and added some herbs to garnish.

“I’ll set the table.”

They’d been dating for a few months now, and although Baekhyun seemed like he wanted to take things further, Yixing only wanted to take things slow. He’d waited for this for thousands of years, and the death of time itself; he could wait a bit longer.

The bottle of wine was empty by the time they logged on to play  _ League _ . Yixing supposed Jongin would make some comment about the strange juxtaposition, but Yixing didn’t grasp human cultural norms that well yet. It was enough that he’d found so much in common with Baekhyun even in this new era.

Baekhyun was much better than Yixing was. He’d considered using some of his powers so that Baekhyun wouldn’t have to carry so much, but he couldn’t figure out a good way to channel them into the computer. It was still fun, and he let some of the pleasant haze of alcohol seep into his godly half as well.

He could live like this for decades, for the rest of Baekhyun’s human lifespan. He’d debated revealing himself as a god again, but thought the idea was too risky. He’d wait, and hope that Baekhyun would accept his offer of immortality, if he made it again.

“Are you coming to the presentation tomorrow?” Baekhyun asked.

Baekhyun was presenting on some of his research at the university; from what Chanyeol was saying, it was the culmination of years of research, and was already being touted as his greatest scientific accomplishment.

“Of course!”

They were both tired and lying on the couch. When Yixing glanced at the clock, it was already the next day.

Baekhyun followed his gaze. “I guess it’s technically today.”

“You should stay over,” Yixing said. “The presentation isn’t until the afternoon, right?”

Baekhyun had switched their positions and he was looking down at Yixing mischievously, his fingers walking down the buttons of Yixing’s shirt.

“That’s very tempting.”

Yixing swallowed dryly as Baekhyun’s fingers crept even lower. His eyes, glued to the delicate movements of Baekhyun’s hand, were distracted for a moment by a pink tongue coming out to swipe over his lips. They’d done this enough times for Yixing to know what was coming next. Baekhyun was a lot more experienced in this lifetime, and Yixing couldn’t complain.

...

“Any questions?”

Baekhyun gazed nervously out into the sea of unfamiliar faces and spotted Chanyeol and Yixing sitting in the second row. He felt a little reassured. His argument was radical, and that was sure to upset the mainstream physics community. But he believed in the math and he believed in his results.

A forest of hands appeared and Baekhyun winced. He called on a middle-aged woman with stern eyes sitting closer to the front of the room.

“I’d first like to congratulate you on this work. It’s a true mathematical achievement,” she said, and Baekhyun relaxed. “But I’m afraid the predictions of the model are too, well, too ambitious. Your preliminary analyses simply won’t be able to stand up to further experimental scrutiny. It reads more like a fairy tale than a scientific experiment.”

Baekhyun sighed. “I realize that the implications of this work are a bit difficult to stomach, but I believe that the math doesn’t lie. I’d be happy to go over the assumptions again and take criticism on them.”

The woman smiled apologetically. “I’ll look forward to reviewing your future work on this subject, then.”

Baekhyun nodded. “Other questions?”

Yixing’s hand went up and Baekhyun gratefully called on him.

“If I’m understanding correctly, the key insight of your work is to reformulate the Einstein field equations in order to make them more amenable to analysis,” he said. “Could you explain a bit more how this helps the model make testable predictions?”

Baekhyun smiled. He was glad for the question, which allowed him to recapitulate in a new way the central thesis of his work.

“Thanks for the question,” he said. “I in fact owe this insight to some of my colleagues in the math department, but once you perform this change in perspective, as it were, it becomes apparent that this is the most elegant way to explain the wormhole solution to the Einstein field equations. It’s essentially a probabilistic argument. Given all that we’ve explored so far, the existence of wormholes should have made an observable impact on the universe’s observed dark matter, among other things. Can we actually see that? If we can, well, it’d be pretty damn exciting.”

…

Yixing’s dreams were confused that night. They swirled between a hundred human lifetimes and a thousand different civilizations. He dreamt of a small wooden cabin facing the sunrise, of cold mountain air and wild berries. In his dreams, he stumbled over uneven, grassy ground, towards something he knew he could not wake without, but just as he was about to crest the hill, he was in another place, another lifetime, another story.

“Yixing.”

Jongin was standing over him. The shadows around him were darker than the darkness of night. Yixing had a feeling that Jongin had called his name many times.

  
“What are you doing here?”

“Please, come with me.” It was then that Yixing noticed how scared Jongin looked. He hadn’t seen him this way since before the death of time, perhaps.

“What’s wrong?” Yixing asked. He half wanted to return to his dreaming.

“Kyungsoo is hurt,” Jongin said. “He’s dying. I need you to come with me to help him.”

Yixing leapt out of bed, shaking his head and backing away. “I can’t leave, not now. I haven’t had enough time here.”

The shadows were writhing on the ground, extending tentacles of black towards him.

“Yixing,” Jongin said. “You know what I would do to save him, don’t you?”

Yixing reached out with his power, trying to run away, but it was too late. The shadows had already wrapped around him. He could feel his human skin disintegrating, his soul being jerked and pulled away from the mortal world. He caught a glimpse of the mountain of the gods, for it towered over Kai’s domain, neither in the mortal world nor in the spirit one, and not quite in the gods’ realm either.

The shadows slowly peeled away from Yixing’s body.

The darkness of Limbo seemed so cold after the brightness of the mortal world. The wind howled against them and Yixing shivered. He couldn’t bring himself to stand, watching his hands sink into the fabric of Limbo, the black sand-like ground of that half-place.

“What have you done?” he whispered, a lump in his throat.

Jongin’s voice was thick. “Please, Yixing. I’m desperate. You’re the only one that can save him now.”

Yixing let his power flare as he sprang to his feet. Yes, he was a peaceful god, but he was a god nonetheless, and his position on the mountain was high. If any mortals had been nearby, even any souls, they would have been turned to oblivion instantaneously.

“And who will save you when I’m done with you?” He didn’t recognize his voice. It was a thousand voices, in a million languages.

Jongin smiled, but it was more of a grimace. “You won’t hurt me. Even if you wanted to.”

Yixing turned away. He could feel his anger ebbing away; it never stayed for long. He was a peaceful god. His domain was healing, not hurting. But he would not be able to heal this. He felt his legs trembling and he fell to his knees once more. He had thought he would only have to do this once.

He felt Jongin’s hand on his shoulder and he shuddered away as if burned. He could hear Jongin sigh.   
  


“It’s not like I didn’t think about it before. I think there might be a way to get back. To the right place  _ and _ time. We need to hurry, though. It’ll be harder the more we travel away from that point in spacetime.”

“What do you mean?”

Jongin pulled him to his feet. “I’m not sure if it’ll work. But the gods’ realm is drawn to the mortal one, right?”

Yixing nodded.

“It’s the reason for our existence, the strongest force any of us know of,” Jongin continued. “Ordinarily, only gods can cross the membrane separating the two worlds, since only we are both spirit and mortal. Only our mortal selves walk in the mortal world, and only our godly selves walk in this realm. But my powers allow mortals to cross into the gods’ realm. Otherwise they wouldn’t be able to get to Limbo. If we could use my powers to break the membrane between the two worlds, we could tie the two realms together, force them back into the same point of spacetime. Our mortal halves and our godly halves would join through the gap, and the two realms would be coupled back together.”

Yixing’s head spun. He wasn’t sure if he got Jongin’s explanation on its head or its feet, but he trusted him. They’d weathered countless wars together. He was perhaps the closest friend that Yixing had.

“Let’s hurry to the king then,” he said. “Explain it again to me along the way.”

…

“Congrats,” Seulgi said when Baekhyun arrived in the office the next morning. She had the university’s news site pulled up on her monitor.

Baekhyun peered over her shoulder at the picture of himself and tried not to look too embarrassed. “I should be congratulating you too.”

She scrolled through the article, which described the first paper that had been published on their work with wormhole simulations. “I didn’t do that much.”

“But you will be doing a lot more in the future,” Baekhyun said. “I’m counting on you!”

She flapped her hand at him and looked embarrassed, but Baekhyun could tell that she was pleased. He settled into his desk and pulled up his email to start doing damage control. Every great advance in science was accompanied by even greater backlash, after all. Thankfully, he had a date with Yixing later that evening to look forward to, while he was slugging through all of the tedious emails and administrative minutiae.

...

The king of Limbo was not a god, but something close to one. Not all souls passed so easily through Limbo, on their way to reincarnation or oblivion. Some souls were so heavy with sin that they could not leave Limbo. For those heavy souls, there were two paths. Some of them became exorcists that released souls trapped in the mortal world. Every soul they released lightened their own, until eventually they could leave Limbo.

The rest became soul eaters. They ate the souls that refused to leave the mortal world, leaking their resentful energy everywhere and sucking the spirit out of souls nearby. Their souls themselves became heavier and heavier, so they could never reach oblivion or reincarnation, but would instead live a life of eternal torment, with a million tortured souls trapped inside of them. These soul eaters spent most of their time in the mortal world, seeking lost souls, but the greatest of them became the king of Limbo, to govern all of the souls on their myriad journeys after death.

The king of Limbo was a force outside of its god, Kai, but they had traditionally always had a friendship. And the current king, D.O, had risen to power with Jongin’s help. Among the gods, it was rumored that they were more than friends. Among the soul eaters, that was common knowledge.

“Right through here.” A soul eater pointed the way down a shadowy hall. “He’s been sleeping for the past few days.”

Yixing shook his head. “He shouldn’t sleep too much. Sleep is when we are weakest, gods and mortals both. The souls inside him will rip him apart given a chance.”

“Thanks for that,” Jongin groaned as they broke into a sprint. The palace was cavernous and empty, or at least it appeared empty, with shadows cloaking every corner. The soles of Yixing’s feet became warm as they pounded against the obsidian, heated by a force that he didn’t know.

When they arrived, Kyungsoo was sleeping fretfully on a bed of shadows, his hair soaked with sweat.

“The shadows have been doing all they can to prevent the resentful energy from going out of control,” the soul eater explained. “But it’s been getting harder and harder.”

“I’ll need time to repair his soul vault,” Yixing said. “Bring sunlight if you can, or moonlight if not.”

The soul eater rushed off and Yixing began to work, closing his eyes and using his spiritual power to sense the location of the break in Kyungsoo’s soul vault.

“I can hear you pacing,” he said after a while, and the shuffling behind him stopped.

“I can’t watch,” Jongin sighed and left the room. It became just the slightest bit brighter, although the shadows still swirled agitatedly around Kyungsoo.

The soul eater came back with two others, each bearing a barrel on their shoulders. “We brought all the moonlight we could find. As for sunlight, there was only this.”

He placed a glowing vial in Yixing’s hand. The shadows clung to it like dewdrops, and Yixing shook them off so he could examine it more closely.

“It’ll be enough,” he decided. “Thank you.”

The soul vault was the structure inside of every soul eater that kept inside all of the resentful souls that would otherwise burst out and wreak havoc on whatever world they so happened to find themselves in. For the king of Limbo, the soul vault was filled with the most resentful energy and the most vicious souls. It would be difficult to repair, but with enough time, Yixing could do it.

He uncapped the vial of sunlight, letting its power combine with his own, and began to carefully mend the break. In order to prevent the fracture from spreading, he would have to painstakingly weave the energy into the existing fabric of the soul vault, making it even stronger than it was before. It was going to be a long surgery.

…

“Want pancakes?” Chanyeol asked when Baekhyun got up that morning.

He yawned and went to the coffee machine to pour himself some coffee. “Sure, thanks.”

It was cold out, but the icicles were melting slowly in the morning sun. Baekhyun watched the sun glinting off the blanket of snow in the yard, and had the urge to play the piano.

“Here.” Chanyeol slid a plate towards Baekhyun.

“Ooh, chocolate chip,” he said as he poured some syrup over the stack. “What’s the occasion, anyway?”

Chanyeol shrugged. “You seemed kind of down.”

Baekhyun sighed and cut into his pancakes with a bit more force than necessary. “You really do know me too well.”

Chanyeol sat down next to him and started eating his own pancakes. “It’s pretty easy to tell, in all fairness.”

“These are really good,” Baekhyun commented. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

They ate quietly for a few more minutes before Baekhyun’s thoughts demanded to be let out.

“I didn’t think he would do something like this,” he admitted. “He seemed so, so gentle?”

Chanyeol’s face had a strange expression on it. “I didn’t think so either. He left so suddenly though, I’m not really sure what to make of it.”

“It’s not like I’ve fallen off the face of the earth though,” Baekhyun pointed out. “He could at least  _ call _ , wherever he is now.”

Chanyeol couldn’t disagree with that.

Baekhyun sighed. “I honestly thought that we were on the verge of moving in together. No offense to the best roommate I’ve ever had.”

Chanyeol laughed. “It was about time anyway.”

“Only took us ten years after college,” Baekhyun teased.

Chanyeol shrugged. “You got any plans for the weekend?”

Baekhyun groaned. “I need to respond to reviews, so I’ll probably be holed up in my office the whole weekend. I’m really looking forward to this vacation.”

“You deserve it,” Chanyeol said. “It’ll be a good chance to see all the others again too.”

Baekhyun smiled. “We both deserve it.”

...

“Thank you.” Jongin looked worn out, almost ready to become one of his shadows himself.

Yixing shook his head. “I owe both of you. But if anything changes with him, I won’t be able to help you anymore.”

Kyungsoo’s condition had stabilized after his soul vault was repaired, and the resentful energy had gradually disappeared back inside of him. Yixing didn’t think anything else would happen, but then again he’d never had to repair a soul vault before; normally a break in the soul vault meant instant death for the soul eater.

Jongin nodded. “I trust you.”

“I should be going,” Yixing said. He needed to find some way to break back into the mortal world, and quickly.

“Take it. It’s the only thing that we know will work.”

Yixing stared at the staff. It was so black that his eyes hurt to look at it. The source of Kai’s power, the staff that let him step between the worlds at will. Without it, he would be powerless, only his shadows to protect him.

“Jongin, I can’t.”

Jongin shook his head and thrust it into Yixing’s hands. “I’ll stay here in Limbo until you return. Don’t worry, Kyungsoo and the rest of the soul eaters will protect me until then.”

“What if--”

“Have a nice trip,” Jongin called, his back already turned. “I’ll be wanting it back without a scratch on it, mind you.”

“Thank you!” Yixing shouted.

The shadows swirled around Jongin and he disappeared. Yixing turned the staff over in his hands a few times. He could feel its spiritual energy coursing through him. He closed his eyes and reached out with his own.

The membrane between the mortal world and the gods’ realm was infinitesimally thin, but unfathomably strong. It was impossible to puncture head-on, but with Kai’s staff, Yixing could approach it at an angle, from a place where no one but Kai could go. He could break it, tying their worlds together forever.

…

“What?” Baekhyun was acutely aware of the fact that he had repeated the same word three times.

“NASA is on the line,” came his secretary’s disgruntled voice for the third time. “They’ve been seeing some strange patterns in the infrared range, and they want you to take a look so they can decide whether or not to turn James Webb towards it for more observation.”

“I’m on vacation,” Baekhyun finally spluttered out.

“They’re aware,” the secretary responded. “They’re insisting that it’s urgent.”

He got up and opened the curtains on the window so he could look out at the moon reflecting off the waves. “Have Seulgi perform preliminary analyses. I’ll try to get online within the next hour.”

She heaved a sigh of relief. “I’ll let them know. Thank you.”

Baekhyun sleepily got dressed and took a shower so his brain could function properly. By the time he’d made himself a cup of coffee, a summary of the data had already been sent over to his laptop. Damn him for bringing his work laptop on vacation.

He squinted at the screen as he continued to perform analysis, cross-referencing some other programs every so often and pulling up a Skype session with Seulgi so they could talk over a few of the tricky bits.

“Fuck,” he said at last. It was the exact signature that they’d been looking for, the telltale sign of a wormhole. LIGO would be picking up the gravitational waves any minute now, and if they were able to turn James Webb in time, they’d also be able to get a stronger confirmation of the signal.

When Chanyeol got up out of bed and started banging on his door so they could head down to breakfast together, he was on the phone with the director of NASA. It took an hour to iron out all of the details; they would need to work out the math on how far away the wormhole was, possibly turning other telescopes towards it for further observation. Massive amounts of manpower would be mobilized to study it, in the possible event that its creation was by design.

“Are you Ironman or something?” Chanyeol asked when they finally got to the breakfast buffet.

Baekhyun was too hungry to respond; he made a beeline for the sausages instead.

…

_ Dumb staff _ , Yixing complained to himself.

Jongin’s powers didn’t come with an instruction manual, and he’d been uselessly teleporting around in the mortal world for what seemed like days, but could just as well have been years, uncertain whether he was headed in the right direction or not. He’d made the mistake of wearing a mortal body the first time, and it’d soon been obliterated by the vacuum of space.

It shouldn’t have to be so difficult. He’d asked Jongin how it worked before, how he was always able to find Yixing no matter where he was.

_ Focus on the person, not the place _ .

He condensed his spiritual power, let it curl around the power of the staff. He could feel the vibrating feedback, as though the staff could finally sense his worth.

Spacetime bent, folded, and contorted, sucking him along with it and spitting him back out.

…

Baekhyun shook his head and got up to make himself another cup of coffee. Everyone else in the building had already left, but he needed to stay awake just a little bit longer, for the all-hands meeting with NASA and the ESA, and then he could finally sleep. It was a good thing he had a couch in his office.

He stifled a yawn with his fist and began rummaging around the kitchenette for more coffee grounds. His sleep-deprived muscles were being uncooperative, and he accidentally knocked his coffee mug onto the ground.

He stared at the broken pieces on the floor for a good minute before going to get a broom and dustpan. At least it wasn’t his favorite mug.

When he returned, the sight of the shards of ceramic disheartened him so much that he decided that he needed to take a power nap before the meeting after all. He swept the broken pieces to the side of the kitchenette and stumbled back into his office, only to find someone sitting at his desk.

“Yixing?” he asked in disbelief, and pinched himself on the arm. He really was sleep-deprived.

Yixing, because it was definitely Yixing, looked just as confused as Baekhyun felt. When he saw him, his face broke out into a huge smile, and he stood up from the desk, walking towards him.

Baekhyun let himself be wrapped up in Yixing’s hug; it was so tempting to just let himself collapse.

“I’m so glad,” he heard Yixing say, and Baekhyun realized that Yixing was crying. He felt his heart ache at that; he wanted to comfort him and never let him cry again.

But then his rational mind got the better of him and he pulled away, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know what you’re all about, coming over here at night after leaving for  _ a year _ , but I’m busy right now.”

“It’s been a year?”

Baekhyun scoffed. “Don’t act like you didn’t know. I called you so many times, but it was like you disappeared off the face of this earth! What could I  _ possibly _ have done to make you do that?”

“I didn’t leave on purpose!”

Baekhyun shook his head. “I don’t have time for excuses. I guess you wouldn’t know since you were gone for so long, but I have a very important meeting about the discovery of a wormhole, so I would like you to leave now.”

“Baekhyun, I can explain--”

But Baekhyun was already steering Yixing towards the door and slamming it in his face. He was so angry and confused that he stayed awake until the meeting, glowering at the closed door where he knew Yixing was still waiting, and he seethed during the entire course of the meeting, until the director of NASA timidly asked him if anything was wrong.

“I’m just tired,” he replied apologetically, but his eyes were still trained on the door.

…

“I heard your conversation,” Yixing said when Baekhyun warily peeked his head out of the door two hours later.

“And what of it?” Baekhyun snapped back.

It had all made perfect sense when he considered the staff, which had the power to bring mortals between the worlds. When he had ruptured the membrane between the worlds, he allowed mortals to pass freely into the gods’ realm. Through the gods’ realm, they could then exit back into the mortal one, although not necessarily at the same point in spacetime. The rupture would have drastic effects on the mortal world, ones that could be experienced wherever in the mortal world you were. The sudden closeness of the gods’ realm was already affecting the very fabric of the mortal world.

“I think I can help,” Yixing replied. 

Baekhyun narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think that?”

“Right now you must be struggling with the math of where exactly the wormhole is,” Yixing said. “You were able to detect its effects in the infrared last week, but now you’re seeing its effects from everywhere, on all parts of the spectrum. It’s more baffling than the cosmic microwave background was when it was first discovered.”

Baekhyun’s eyes were as round as coins. “How do you know all that?”

“Let me help you,” Yixing said. “Let’s figure this out together.”

Baekhyun brushed past him and went to the kitchenette to brew another cup of coffee. He paused for a long moment at the mug, and Yixing belatedly realized that he shouldn’t have repaired it. He hoped Baekhyun was too sleep-deprived to realize that the mug had reassembled itself against the laws of physics.

“Baekhyun?” Yixing asked as he was about to walk back into his office. “Can I help you?”

It took a long time for Baekhyun to nod, turning back into his office and motioning for Yixing to follow.

…

“This changes everything,” Baekhyun realized, closing his eyes and rubbing at them with his knuckles. The back of his eyelids still flashed with the numbers from the screen, the loading bar of the simulation.

“What does it mean?” Yixing asked.

Baekhyun reached for his mug of coffee and nodded at Seulgi to answer.

“This simulation calculates the probability of the first wormhole event we observed occurring due to known celestial events,” Seulgi explained. “Since that event is what triggered the massive changes to spacetime, it’s the catalyst for the formation of new wormholes all over the universe. The amount of energy needed for that first event is no problem. That could happen as the result of a supernova or something else of that scale. But in order to contort spacetime so precisely, it suggests a tremendous amount of…”

She trailed off. When Baekhyun opened his eyes, he saw that she was chewing on her bottom lip nervously.

“A tremendous amount of  _ purpose _ ,” Baekhyun finished for her. “As if there was sentience behind it.”

Yixing nodded slowly, and Baekhyun was even more confused by him.

“Let’s call it a night,” Baekhyun said after a pause. “I want to write up a quick summary and send it off to NASA, and then we can reconvene tomorrow.”

Seulgi agreed and began packing up the enormous stack of reference books, papers, and computer terminals that had accumulated around them. Yixing didn’t move, but stayed watching Baekhyun until he was finished writing the report. 

Seulgi finished putting everything away and said good-bye, closing the door behind her. She really was too nice, tolerating the late nights and unreasonably tight deadlines. Baekhyun hoped that she would continue in astrophysics, though.

Everything that had happened in the past six months had been completely unfathomable for Baekhyun. Their understanding of the universe was advancing so quickly, like the collective weight of human scientific endeavor that had been dammed up for so long was finally bursting through a tiny crack in the floodgate. And Yixing had been indispensable in it all. Although he didn’t understand  _ any _ of the physics or math, his ideas about which directions to turn their telescopes to and which simulations to run had always been spot-on. Whenever Baekhyun was stuck, Yixing always knew exactly what to say to spark inspiration. It was as if a divine hand was guiding him, a non-deterministic algorithm that magically knew exactly which path to take through the problem.

Now the entire space industry was growing at an exponential rate, focused on sending probes out to the wormhole that had appeared near the orbit of Jupiter. Chanyeol was complaining that Baekhyun was responsible for the fact that he was regularly working 80-hour weeks, but Baekhyun knew that he was exhilarated on the inside. 

He sighed when he finally sent off the email; he had been staring at the  _ Send _ button for five minutes, thinking.

“Do you trust me?” Yixing asked.

Baekhyun couldn’t help the flush that crept into his cheeks. “Why are you asking me that now?”

They’d been practically attached at the hip during this entire process, and if any of his colleagues hadn’t already been whispering about his sexuality, they sure were now. 

And even though they’d never talked about it, Baekhyun couldn’t help forgiving Yixing. They’d become closer throughout this entire process than they’d ever been before.

“Do you?”

Baekhyun didn’t have to think. “Yes. After all of this, of course I trust you.”

He saw that Yixing had extended his hand. “I want to show you something.”

Baekhyun hesitated, but took his head. Then he felt a strange sensation, as if his entire body was being forced through a tight door. And then, somehow, he knew. He knew what he was passing through the very fabric of spacetime, to a place where few mortals could ever go. He was going to the realm of the gods, and everything made such perfect sense, as if he had known it all along.

…

Yixing regretted taking Baekhyun to the mountain of the gods. It only made him full of so many questions that Yixing couldn’t concentrate on cooking, or driving to work, or keeping up with the torrent of news Jongin brought him from the gods’ realm. Baekhyun was always texting him, or calling him, or sending him enormous emails with point-by-point dissections of Yixing’s explanations, of everything from the evolution of the universe to whether Bush really did 9/11 or not to if the blue he saw was the same as the blue everyone else saw.

At least he shut up when he did interviews, all of a sudden becoming shy as the reporters asked him about himself, and only becoming animated again when they at last asked him to talk about his research. He had become a celebrity overnight, in popular culture as well as in the scientific world, and people were already coming up with pompous nicknames for him that would show up in the first line of his Wikipedia page.

Yixing was glad for it; Baekhyun deserved the world and more.

“Hey.” It was Chanyeol, peeking his head into Yixing’s office. “Want to come over after work? Baekhyun’s finally free.”

“Yeah!” They hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks now, and Yixing was beginning to resent the human world for stealing Baekhyun away from him.

They went to buy ingredients for pizza and were just rolling out the dough when they heard Baekhyun stepping through the front door, kicking his shoes off with a loud groan.

“I’m free! No more interviews, no more appearances for another month!”

Yixing felt arms around his waist and he turned his head for a kiss.

“Were you sampling some of the toppings?” Baekhyun accused, and Yixing laughed.

“These sundried tomatoes are really good.”

Baekhyun leaned in for a deeper kiss, smacking his lips as he pulled away. “Yeah, they’re pretty good.”

Chanyeol cleared his throat, and Yixing could feel himself flushing. What an embarrassingly human response.

“Oh,” Baekhyun said with a wink as he loosened his tie. “Sorry Chanyeol, but I’m going to have to move out. Me and my boyfriend are going to find our own place.”

Chanyeol nodded dejectedly, and Yixing smiled down at his pizza, hopelessly lopsided.

…

“Come back to bed.”

Yixing’s voice was thick with sleep, but Baekhyun could still hear how grumpy it was. His head was only just visible among the cushions and blankets on their bed, and Baekhyun walked back over so he could flop down onto his best estimate of where Yixing’s torso was.

“Why?” Yixing complained loudly, and a tickle fight ensued.

While they were lying there breathless, Baekhyun felt Yixing thread fingers between his own, clasping their hands together.

“I need to get ready for work,” Baekhyun complained after a few minutes of cuddling, feeling himself to be in danger of falling back asleep.

“That’s not allowed,” Yixing mumbled. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” Baekhyun said, eyelids feeling dangerously heavy.

He felt Yixing turn towards him, could feel Yixing’s gaze on his skin. “If you really mean it, you should become a god too.”

It took a moment for Baekhyun to be sure of what he’d heard, and another for him to open his eyes and turn to face Yixing.

“What did you say?”

Yixing smiled. “Come join me. Become a god.”

“It’s always something new with you, isn’t it?” Baekhyun asked, shaking his head.

Yixing shrugged. “I’ve been waiting to ask you for a long time. I figured this was a good a time as any.”

Baekhyun sighed, as he sat up in bed, his mind suddenly alert, watching the rain slide down the glass of the window. “It’s a lot to process.”

“Take your time.”

Baekhyun shook his head. “I mean, I’m really happy that you asked me. That’s a lot to process.” He snuck a smile at Yixing, watching the way his face softened. “But I’ve thought about it before, ever since you told me that it was possible for mortals to become gods, and I don’t want it.”

Yixing laughed, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What’s so funny?” Baekhyun demanded, trying to move Yixing’s arm out of the way.

Yixing shook his head, reaching over to move a strand of hair out of Baekhyun’s eyes. “Nothing. It’s what you said last time too. I wonder if you’ll ever want immortality.”

Baekhyun rested his face on Yixing’s shoulder and pulled the blanket over them.

“Does that scare you?” he asked.

Yixing looked surprised. “How did you know?”

“You’re easy to read. I can always tell when you get upset. And you always try to hide it from me.”

Yixing sighed. “Sorry. Of course I’m scared. I don’t want history to repeat itself. I don’t want to lose you again like that.”

Baekhyun was silent for a moment. “But you said that last time, I came back.”

Yixing winced. “That was very lucky. I had some friends in high places that helped you find your way back. I don’t know if it would happen again.”

“But still, it’s possible for a soul to find its way back,” Baekhyun said. “That’s what you said.”

Yixing hesitated. “It’s possible. Just difficult.”

Baekhyun smiled. “Then I suppose you’ll just have to trust me. Like I trusted you.”

Yixing rolled his eyes, but Baekhyun could tell that he was still hurting. He leaned in to give him a nose kiss; that always made Yixing laugh.

“Okay, okay,” Yixing said, his eyes crinkled at their corners. “I trust you.”

...

“Oh God,” Baekhyun whispered. Yixing could feel his heart thrumming under his skin, so alive, so perfect. “I’m so nervous. What if I mess up?”

“You won’t mess up,” Yixing reassured. “And even if you do, you’ll still be the greatest mind of your generation.”

Baekhyun cringed and adjusted his tie. “I hate that article. Stupid reporter.”

“At least the pictures turned out nice,” Yixing said, and Baekhyun laughed softly.

“I was pretty nervous for that too,” he admitted.

“Exactly.” Yixing glanced subtly at the speaker. “And before that you were nervous about the press conference, and before that it was about  _ Science _ , and before that it was about that dumb--”

“--Professor Byun, you have been awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics for your outstanding contributions to our understanding of the fabric of spacetime, especially with regards to the formation of wormholes, the existence of which we have recently observed and which is expected to change forever the nature of our society. Congratulations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently only actual Nobel Prize winners are allowed on the stage, but I think that what happens is that Baekhyun insists that Yixing also be allowed on stage because he basically deserves to share the prize even though he isn't an academic. The fact that Yixing is also on stage is widely publicized and subsequently they become gay icons.  
> That's pretty much the story! Next week I'll post a short epilogue.


	4. Epilogue: The Near Future

Yixing could tell that Baekhyun was used to being flirted with. He smiled indulgently and took the last sip of the alien cocktail in his hand, setting the vessel back down on the piano. The mechanical instrument seemed so out of place on this luxury starship, but the way Baekhyun’s fingers had caressed its keys had made it seem so natural, as if it too was a thing of the stars.

“Can I buy you another drink?” Yixing offered.

“How about a round in the vapor room instead?” Baekhyun suggested.

Yixing was still growing accustomed to the newest trends in human intoxicants. Vapor rooms were quite pleasant, however. The vapor was warm and sweet-tasting, laced with endorphogens and other pleasure-inducing molecules.

“Sure,” Yixing agreed. “Do you have any preference?”

“The purple one is my favorite,” Baekhyun replied.

Yixing went to the bar’s console to book the room, and an android promptly arrived to show them into the vapor room. Baekhyun declined its repeated attempts to show them the controls for the vapor geometry, speed, and density, assuring Yixing that he knew the best way to enjoy the room.

When the android left, the door shutting behind it with a hydraulic hiss, they adjusted the settings on their clothes so that the fabric became looser and more porous. Yixing leaned back against the couch, which slowly molded to fit the shape of his body. Baekhyun fiddled with the room controls for a moment, and then sat back against the couch as well.

“How long have you been with  _ Starship Lotto _ ?” Yixing asked, breathing in deeply.

“About six light years,” Baekhyun replied, exhaling purple vapor.

It was the custom in this age to refer to time not in minutes or hours, but in astronomical units and light-years. Everyone was always traveling, usually as fast as possible -- light speed. And it was nonsensical to speak of things occurring in a different reference frame as occurring at a different “time”.

“Wanted to see the galaxy?” Yixing suggested.

“I would’ve become a wormhole engineer if I wanted to do that,” Baekhyun answered. “I wanted to see people.”

Yixing was strangely pleased by that answer. “Of the places you’ve visited, which is your favorite?”

“Triskelion,” Baekhyun replied easily. “There isn’t a more confusing place. You never know when the sun will rise or set, and even less what new travelers the next sunrise will bring. Have you been there before?”

“No. I’ve only heard of it before.”

Baekhyun smiled. “Perhaps if you stay aboard for long enough, we can visit it together.”

Yixing laughed. “If I didn’t know better, that would sound like an invitation to me.”

Baekhyun turned away, and for a moment he was shrouded in purple smoke. Then the smoke was gone and he was so close to Yixing, his breath on Yixing’s face.

“Why do I feel like we’ve met before?”

“Maybe we’ve met in a previous life,” Yixing replied, wrapping his hand around the back of Baekhyun’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

They both sighed. It was the feeling of arriving home, of never arriving, of traveling through time and space and the stars.

_ It was their sixth lifetime together. They were to meet again in four thousand seven hundred and three more. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll be posting a spinoff story in the near future, which will center around an event in Chapter 3 but featuring new characters (Xiuhun-centric).


End file.
